Erik:the Vampire Hunter: The Continuing Adventures
by Elektra1
Summary: A story that takes place after the original 'Erik: The Vampire Hunter'. Modern Day AU
1. Episode 1

_**A/N: Thanks to my beta, Olethros, as well as my "Camping Consultant", the ever-talented Gondolier. (Pssst, go read "Fraternity" when you're finished reading this . **_

* * *

**Erik: the Vampire Hunter - The Continuing Adventures **

**Episode 1**

By: Elektra

**Evergreen Lake **

A man stood by the shores of Evergreen Lake, enthralled by the sound filling his ears and his very body. He made his way into the water, as if in a trance, towards the mysterious creature calling to him.

He did not care about the water slowly soaking his shoes, his jeans, creeping up over his knees, his waist. He needed to be closer to that beautiful voice. To the woman who urged him forward with her song.

The water crept over his chest, his neck, and soon he found himself denied oxygen, denied sight. However, it did not matter.

There was an angel singing, there was a feeling of euphoria.

…and then… there was nothing.

* * *

**Daaé-Garner Residence – The next evening **

Christine wandered wearily through the doors, her purse slung over her shoulder. She was glad to be home after her hectic rehearsal. A new opera was opening in two months and today had been rather tedious and time-consuming.

Passing the couch, Christine gave a quick kiss to each of the three felines that slept curled up together: _Isis_, _Odin_, and _Kuroneko_. "How are mommy's little babies? Where's daddy?" she asked, but no answer was forthcoming – not that she expected one.

Christine stood up and stepped away from the sleeping felines. "Erik? You around?" she called out.

"On the balcony," came the answer from upstairs.

Christine was relieved to find him available instead of holed up in his workshop in the basement.

Her fiancé had been quite busy these last few weeks, commissioned by several well-off clients thanks to Aleese DuBois. The former client had shared his name among friends who where looking for renovations or wanting a new summer home built by the talented recluse.

While Christine was glad he was doing so well, he rarely came to bed much before 3 a.m. She would be so fast asleep that she wouldn't even realize he had joined her. Christine had lost track of how long it had been since they had given one another some one-on-one attention.

Maybe that would change tonight.

With that hopeful thought, Christine quickly headed up to their shared bedroom. Erik stood through the French doors, leaning back against the balcony railing. The moonlight reflected off his marble skin, giving the man an almost ethereal look.

No, he would never be mistaken for _normal_. And she wouldn't have it any other way.

"Hey, lover," Christine smiled as she dropped her purse on a chair. "Busy day?"

"I took a break. Did you have a good rehearsal?"

"If you define the term _good_ as _hectic _and _mind-numbing_, then yes." She answered as she set about getting into more comfortable clothing.

His golden eyes studied her through the hand-made mask he wore, enjoying the view of this lovely woman changing her clothes without shame in front of him. The black material, decorated with dark red fabric paint, covered his face entirely, save his mouth and below. Perhaps it was better, considering the heated expression upon his face at the moment.

"You need to wear tank tops more often," Christine said once she found herself cozy in a cami and sleep pants.

Erik glanced down at the black material that snugly fit his lean form. "It's summer. Even a corpse gets hot."

Christine suddenly launched herself into his arms. He caught her quickly – as she always knew he would. "And what a _hot_ corpse you are," she commented before her mouth descended upon his, pulling a low growl from his throat as she slid her legs around his hips. She pulled away after several moments, "What's that?" She indicated something black around his upper left bicep.

He reluctantly placed her back on her feet, "Take a look,"

She moved herself to stand by his left arm, eyes going wide as she studied the new markings. "OH!" Her fingers traced over a thin band of black roses etched onto his skin, three neatly scripted letters breaking the band's continuity: C.A.M.

She quickly put a hand to her mouth, trying to suppress the sob that threatened to escape. She knew what those letters meant: _Christine's Angel of Music._

It had been permanently tattooed onto his arm.

"Erik!" Christine squeaked out. "You… did this?" Logic told her to scold the man for eternally branding his skin on her behalf, but the obvious intent behind it touched her beyond measure.

Unable to speak, Christine suddenly threw her arms around Erik's waist and buried her face against his chest.

"Don't you like it?" he asked anxiously as he slid his arms around her.

"I _love_ it," she whispered, tightening her grip. She felt Erik exhale a sigh of relief and realized he had been concerned about her reaction. "When did you get it?"

"I made an appointment to coincide with your rehearsal. It took a few hours." He explained. She nodded silently and he spoke again. "I had been planning it for a wedding present, but I could not wait." He grew concerned the longer Christine remained silent. "I rather like it, but it is easily covered by a t-shirt, if you prefer."

"Don't cover it," Christine said as she finally raised her head. She quickly wiped the tears from her eyes. "Sorry, I just got all emotional." She looked at the tattoo again and smiled as she brushed her fingers over the black markings once more. "Better be careful, though. People are going to think you're infatuated with a certain singer,"

He tilted her chin up with gentle fingers, "I am _very_ infatuated with a certain singer, and I want everyone to know that I am _hers._"

"Her… being _me_, right?" she winked.

"Always." Erik cupped her face in his hands, "I know to _whom_ I belong, and you need not fear me hiding from you ever again."

Christine stood on her tiptoes and reached up to trail her fingers over his mask, slipping the material off his face and allowing it to flutter to the floor. "All mine?" She whispered softly. He nodded. She glanced at the tattoo, "Christine's Angel of Music?" He nodded once more. She tugged at the hem of his shirt and led him back into the bedroom. "Show me."

It was a command that Erik did not hesitate to follow.

* * *

**Evergreen Lake - Camping Ground **

Two park rangers gathered around the body that had washed up on shore. "Fifth one this month," one muttered.

The other turned to the hikers who had found this particular body. "Anyone recognize him?"

One woman stepped forward. "He was at our campsite. I saw him walking away. He looked kind of distracted. Maybe he was meeting someone? I don't know. Maybe he heard something strange."

The two rangers exchanged glances. The same sequence of events followed the earlier bodies that had been found.

Surely it wasn't just a coincidence.

* * *

**Antoinette Giry and Richard Firmin's Residence – the next morning **

Giry glanced over the paper that had just arrived through the fax machine with curiousity. It was an assignment for Erik. "Richard? Come see this."

She felt Firmin come up behind her and read the paper over her shoulder. "Strange happenings at a campsite?" he asked, and then read on. "Bodies washed up on the lakeshore? What does that have to do with Erik? Surely this is more a case for the police."

"The Guild does not know. Some campers claimed to see others leaving their site in a trance of some sort, as if they were listening to something. At first, one would think it's only camping lore, but there have been a number of eye-witness reports. Far too many for comfort."

"Has the campground been infiltrated by the Pied Piper of Hamelin?" Firmin asked.

Giry shrugged. "I am willing to believe anything nowadays, Richard."

Firmin agreed with that, until something concerned him. "But, Antoinette - a man such as Erik going camping? It would be suspicious, no?"

"Perhaps… well…" she thought a moment. "Do the managers of Populaire expect their company to work over the holiday weekend?"

"Oh… um…" Firmin seemed uncomfortable. He had not even thought about the long weekend. If he made the company work, they would have to pay overtime. "No. Of course not. They will have the weekend off." He said quickly.

Giry nodded, "Then a man camping with his fiancée would NOT be suspicious."

"Right," Firmin replied. "I keep forgetting that the Guild's _Executioner_ is engaged."

"He's no longer the Executioner."

"True. Though I've always wondered if Erik feels remorse for his past acts,"

"Would you want him to?" Giry asked. "I imagine it would be rather cruel. His sanity is uncertain enough as it is." She sighed, "Erik feels very little, save for what he feels for Christine. That girl has done something I once thought impossible…"

She then clapped her hands, declaring the conversation over. "Then it is settled. We will ask him to take Christine on this assignment. She, at least, will help him fit in better." Giry shrugged, "Well, as much as Erik can fit in anywhere."

She headed into the next room and quickly made the phone call.

* * *

**Daaé-Garner Residence **

Christine groaned as the shrilling of the antique phone on her night table woke her from her slumber. "Hello?" She muttered groggily into the handset. When she heard who was on the line and with whom they wished to speak, she turned to the skeletal face resting on the pillow beside her. "It's Madame Giry."

With a sigh, Erik slid halfway over Christine so as not to knock the phone from where it sat. "Yes, Antoinette?" He asked into the handset Christine still held. She pressed it against his ear as he waited for the information Giry offered, "Interesting. Perhaps Firmin's comment was not so far off. We will see." He waited another moment for more information and offered a grunt in response. "I will ask Christine to join me. Good bye." Christine hung up the phone on his behalf.

"Thank you," Erik replied as he looked down at the girl beneath him. The very _nude_ girl.

"I'm joining you somewhere?" she asked as she shifted a little beneath him, causing Erik's thoughts to stray to places he had no time for at the moment.

Erik reined himself in long enough to inform Christine of his conversation with Giry. She nodded in acceptance, seemingly eager to go camping.

He then allowed his thoughts to stray again.

"We should get a cordless phone," he began as he rested a hand on either side of the pillow beneath her head, "It would prevent this awkwardness."

Christine smirked up at him, her legs sliding against his as she repositioned herself. "Who's awkward?"

Erik's golden eyes darkened at her obvious intent. "Naughty Christine…"

"Your fault," she teased as she trailed her fingers over his new tattoo again. She then reached up and curled a lock of his poker-straight ebony hair around her fingers, studying it. "It's grown so long," she said, noting how it fell over his shoulders and brushed her skin. "I should be jealous."

"It is all the hair I will ever grow," he replied, referring to the fact that his face and body were still bare as the day he was born. "A pointless vanity, but the only one in which I can really indulge."

"Not pointless. I like it. Very much. Just don't let it grow longer than _mine_."

"I promise," he said as he brushed his lips over hers.

Fighting the urge to brush his lips over _more_ than her mouth, Erik quickly pushed himself to his knees, letting the blankets fall effortlessly from his body and giving Christine a very detailed view. "Hurry," he commanded. "We must take a trip to _Bass Pro_."

Christine stared at him, "NOW?" she sputtered, pushing herself up on her elbows.

"We have been asked to head out Friday morning. That gives us two days, and I know you have rehearsals later this afternoon." He quickly slid off the bed and headed to the closet.

Christine gathered the sheets to her chest and watched him, her eyes trailing over the darkened scars that marred his pale back and crisscrossed their way down to mid-thigh. "How much is it going to cost?"

"What does it matter?" he shrugged as he pulled out a pair of leather pants and tossed them on a nearby chair before looking for a shirt. "We will ask the sales associates what we need and put it all on the Guild's card. This is for _their_ assignment after all." He offered her a quick glance, "And I suggest we invest in ear plugs as well. They may come in handy later."

"Earplugs?" Christine furrowed her brow. "Why? If we're going camping…"

"One never knows how noisy the forest may be," he answered before turning back to the closet.

"Maybe we should find out a bit more info about this place – like what kind of campground it is. We'll have a better idea of what we'll need."

"Boot up the computer and do a search for_ Evergreen Lake_." Erik requested.

He turned to her when he realized she had not yet moved from her spot. "What is it?" he asked. "Christine?" he slowly returned to the bed, sitting down to face her.

"Well…I… I was kind of hoping we… we'd stay in bed until I had to get ready," she blushed shyly. "I mean… it… it's been so hectic lately and we've been so busy. We haven't really had a chance to-"

Erik interrupted her words as his lips found hers once again, "Sweet Christine. Erik is _yours_, first and foremost." He gently pressed her back down to the mattress, his kisses deftly exploring her soft skin, "For the next few hours, at least."

* * *

**Evergreen Lake Camp Grounds **

"Please… let me see you…" the lone canoe rider cried out to the lake before him. "I can't live without you!"

The song continued, his body moving of its own volition. He stood up, not caring that the canoe shifted unsteadily beneath him.

_She_ was there, under the water.

He would get to her. He would have her. He would jump into the icy water, and never resurface.

There was no going back now. This was it. He was hers.

And moments later, he was gone.

* * *

**Evergreen Lake Camp Grounds – Friday afternoon **

Erik took in his surroundings, committing the area to memory as Christine clung to his arm in an attempt to keep up with him as they followed the dirt path leading to the campsite. Both were bogged down with their gear, though Erik seemed to be having far less trouble than Christine.

"If we don't get there soon, I'm just going to set up here and pass out," she muttered.

"That would be unwise, beloved." Erik replied. He suddenly stopped as something caught his attention, his keen hearing picking up more than anyone else could. He turned in his tracks, causing Christine to come to a halt.

Erik glared at the group of four college-aged boys a few feet down the path behind them, whispering and staring. They were momentarily taken aback when they noticed his golden eyes focusing on them.

"If you want to see, you only had to ask." Erik's voice echoed in the quiet woods.

One finally spoke, "You got nothing we want to see," he then smirked at Christine, "_She_ probably does though."

Erik narrowed his eyes, "_She_ is not your concern. Though you seemed rather fascinated with _this_," he indicated the mask he wore. "You've been talking about it since you saw me."

"Honey…" Christine muttered under her breath, "Leave it."

"Why?" Erik asked as he glanced down at her. "They seem so very interested." He looked back at the boys, and slowly peeled back one corner of the soft cotton mask, revealing a protruding cheekbone covered in deathly white skin with traces of blue beneath.

The small group stumbled back, somewhat aghast, then proceeded to make distasteful faces and use the term _freak_ in rather colourful sentences.

Erik smoothed the material back in place. "I imagine if you saw the _rest_ of my face, you would faint from the shock! A shame you are all too young to simply drop dead."

"Erik!" Christine scolded.

With great suspicion and a few more choice comments, the boys quickly rushed past Erik and Christine.

Christine caught Erik's attention, arms crossed. "Did you have to be so rude?"

"I do not appreciate being spoken of behind my back!" he hissed.

Christine slid her pack off and leaned back against a tree, "Erik, you need to stop!"

"Stop being _confrontational_?" he hissed in response.

"For starters," she reached out and grasped the belt loops on his trousers, pulling him a little closer to be assured of his full attention. "I get it. I really do. I know what they were saying; I saw the looks they were giving you. But _geez_, Erik. You make it worse by being so … so…"

"_Bitchy_?" He finished for her. "Perhaps I should continue the trip like _this_!" He yanked off his mask and let it fall to the ground. "It could make for a VERY interesting weekend!"

Christine calmly leaned down and picked the mask up, brushing the dirt off before holding it out to him. "Let's just continue on, ok?" she frowned, making it clear she was not happy with his behaviour.

Erik closed his eyes and took a slow deep breath. He pushed the mask aside and gently grasped her arms, tugging her little form against him. "I apologize, Christine. But I do not think I will ever behave _properly_ in a society."

He leaned down effortlessly – a surprising feat considering his own pack was still on his back – and rested his forehead against hers, his voice growing soft. "Forgive your _bitchy_ Erik?"

Still holding his mask, she cupped his face in her hands and met his mouth in a soft, tender kiss. "Forgiven."

He took the mask from her hand, sliding it over his face once again. "It's going to get dark soon. We should hurry." Saying no more on the subject, she lifted and hitched her bag once more as the two made their way towards camp.

* * *

Christine and Erik finally found the flat clearing, complete with dirt pit for a fire. Nearby was a rustic bath house and cement showers. Christine was sure she would be making good use of those. 

Erik quickly pitched the tent, solidly impaling the stakes through the loops in each corner to make sure they were snug in the ground. If worse came to worse, he could pull out one of those stakes and use them as a form of defense.

The two then set up their bedding and put their gear away. "I am going to gather some firewood," Erik started. Christine nodded, and he headed off into a thicket of trees.

With a sigh, Christine sat down on one of the logs surrounding the fire pit and lit the bug repellant candles before smothering herself in spray. The last thing she wanted was to be eaten alive.

Erik returned a few minutes later and set the fire.

"Your buddies are here," Christine nodded across the clearing as she handed Erik the spray. He saw the boys they had encountered earlier setting up.

"Lovely," he muttered, lathering himself in repellant. "Let us hope they get eaten by a bear."

"Erik…"

"Well, it isn't as if I can Punjab them." He shrugged.

She rolled her eyes and reached into her pack. "I brought marshmallows," she offered as she pulled out said treats. "And sticks!" she handed him two wooden skewers.

"Is this what you plan to have for supper?" he asked.

"Dessert, at least. You have the food?" Christine asked. Erik reached into his own pack and pulled out two cans of soup, potatoes, and Spam. "Wow, we'll eat like royalty tonight." Erik offered a dry chuckle at that.

Once they were fed, they noticed that others had set up camp as well. Small groups gathered together, cooking over the fire or barbequing on the small grills the camp provided.

When night fell, the moon helped illuminate the campsite, the sounds of owls, bullfrogs, crickets, and other animals filling their ears. "We need to head out early in the morning," Erik explained. "We should sleep shortly."

Christine nodded and made her way to the washroom first, then sat in the tent until Erik returned from his own toilette.

The two quickly headed into the tent and set up their bedrolls side-by-side. One sleeping bag remained unzipped beneath them while another was to be used as a blanket on top. Christine made herself comfortable with Erik's chest against her back, his arm snug around her waist.

It was wonderfully peaceful, even with the strange sounds surrounding them – until the noise of a blaring radio interrupted.

Erik cursed under his breath and lifted a corner of the tent flap, "It's THEM," he muttered.

"They'll get tired eventually," she said. "Leave it for now. We don't have to sleep yet."

"And what would you suggest we do?" he asked.

She rolled over to face him, "Talk. Read."

Erik was agreeable to that, but soon the night grew on and the music had not yet ceased. "We will not be able to sleep in," he explained. "The birds will be chirping before long."

"So ask them… _politely_… to turn the music down."

Erik crawled out of the tent, Christine following him as she hugged a sleeping bag around her shoulders. There were already a few campers over at the noisy tent, each requesting a bit of silence. The boys rudely refused, insulting anyone who said anything.

"This will not be done as politely as you hoped," Erik muttered under his breath.

There was no question he made an imposing figure as he headed towards the disruptive group. With his height, scarred back, and black mask, anyone would see fit to clear the way.

The boys, however, were intoxicated, which made them rather confrontational as they refused to Erik's request to turn down the music.

After much arguing and cursing, Erik grabbed the radio and slammed it against a rock, smashing it easily before tearing apart the wires and tossing it back at the boys' feet, leaving the campground in silence save for the sounds of the wild. This act was followed by a round of applause from the other campers, who gladly made their way to their tents for their own night's sleep.

The boys were beside themselves with anger. Halfway back to Christine, one of the boys found himself foolish enough to jump the masked Hunter from behind.

Christine cried out as her heart pounded against her chest. She all but ran towards Erik as the other three joined in the attack. She stopped in her tracks, however, when she realized Erik was pushing them off easily, serving each boy with a hard firm punch that she knew was less than his full strength. These boys were stupid, not dangerous. Erik knew the difference, and responded accordingly.

Christine saw them show their first sign of intelligence as the group quickly backed off, realizing that though Erik was only one person, he was one very _skilled_ person.

Muttering under their breaths, they headed back to their tents, allowing Erik to return to his fiancée and curl up with her once more.

* * *

**The Next Morning **

Having decided on a hike to investigate their surroundings shortly after breakfast, Erik and Christine headed out.

They were walking for half-an-hour before Erik stopped. Something on the ground had caught his attention. He crouched down to pick up a wet, shredded backpack, then looked off to the left.

"A drainage pipe," he indicated to Christine. "Come." They continued on until Erik stopped at the mouth of the drainage pipe. It was low and narrow. They would have to crawl their way through. "It is the runoff from the lake. Shall we?"

"I'm not going in there!" She protested. "It's gross and muddy and… creepy."

"I will make it up to you."

"How?"

"I will do all the housework for a month."

Christine raised an eyebrow, "Seriously?" He nodded. "You promise?" He nodded again. "Deal!" she held a hand out, and he shook it. "Are you going to wear a little maid's outfit too?"

"Don't push your luck."

Christine seemed disappointed, but followed Erik as he pulled her down and led her through the drainage pipe, hands and knees squelching in the mud. "Ugh…"

"We can wash up afterwards," Erik pulled a LED flashlight out of his hiking pack and shook it for a few moments, the bright light soon illuminating the darkened pipe. It lasted for a few minutes until it began to grow dim and finally flicker out.

Christine automatically reached out for Erik's hand, but found the long, bony fingers icy cold and unyielding. "Erik? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just have to energize the light again," he answered. She heard the shaking of the flashlight again and the drainage pipe brightened once more.

It was then that Christine noticed Erik was kneeling a few feet away, causing the girl to look down slowly at what she was holding.

She screamed and yanked her hand back, the dead body rolling a few feet closer to her. Christine immediately crawled to Erik and huddled against him, burrowing her face against his shirt.

"Ah, I see," he began. "All this time, I thought you loved _me_. But it turns out you love _corpses_ in general. I feel so used…"

"Shut up," Christine muttered. Erik chuckled. "It's not funny!" she pouted.

"Forgive me, but… well, you DO have to see the humour in this,"

"No I don't,"

Erik gave her a quick kiss atop her head then moved away to examine the rest of the decomposed body lying stiffly on the ground. It was surrounded by dry leaves and… were these _feathers_? Erik picked one up and studied it, furrowing his brow. They were too large to be feathers belonging to a bird - unless the bird was human-sized.

_Or… at least PARTLY human…_ Erik mused. He only knew one bird-like creature that could lead people to a lake and drown them.

"I… I can't believe I touched a dead thing!" Christine muttered, breaking Erik out of his thoughts.

"I feel I should be offended you thought it was me," he replied.

"I… oh… well, it was only for a sec! And I knew… I knew something wasn't right."

"Then I am relieved that you prefer your corpses _living_…" He crawled around the body, "My guess is that our friend here was washed out with the current. If anyone went searching, they wouldn't have found him. I'm sure if we go deeper, we'd find a few more."

Christine seemed uncomfortable, "Could we… maybe … NOT?" she asked.

Erik glanced over at her, seeing how pale she had grown at the thought of finding more dead bodies. "I forgot you are squeamish about such things."

"Squeamish is an understatement," she muttered, then furrowed her brow, "Wait a sec! Are you calling me a wimp?"

Erik let out a small chuckle and helped Christine crawl back out. "Nothing of the sort. It takes a strong woman to accept _me_ into her bed." He helped her to her feet once they could stand again, "Let's go back to camp. I think we could both do with a shower."

Christine couldn't help but agree.

* * *

**Later **

Erik glanced around the campsite and saw everyone else enjoying their dinners as they sat around various fire pits. Some were even hopping back and forth, the beer flowing cheerfully as complete strangers struck up conversation. Everyone seemed to be having a fine time.

Except one tent.

No one was sitting outside it, and no movement could be seen within.

He would have thought the inhabitants were sleeping, but being that they were rather unruly college boys, he highly doubted it. He cursed under his breath silently and turned to Christine. "It seems our first disappearance has taken place," he informed her. "You may stay here, or you can come with me."

Christine glanced around, "Who's missing?"

"Our good friends," he muttered, indicating the empty tent across the clearing.

She bit her lip nervously. "I don't want to stay here. Not without you."

"Come then, let's find our annoying neighbours."

"It's going to get dark soon," she pointed out.

"Yes." He then turned to her. "Bring a flashlight if you must, but do not worry that we will get lost. You forget your Erik's extraordinary senses."

She smiled and took his hand. "I'll never doubt again."

With that, they headed off.

* * *

**An hour later **

Holding Christine's hand tightly, Erik made his way along the path he was sure the boys had gone. He was beginning to feel the cool breeze off the lake, smell the murky water. It would not be far now.

Behind him, Christine looked up through the canopy of trees. They were not on any marked path, but Erik seemed to know where he was going.

Suddenly, the hand around hers tightened and Erik grew stock still.

"Erik?"

"Do you hear it?" He asked softly. "It is so beautiful…"

"What's beautiful?" she wondered.

"The singing. The heavenly singing. Like an angel."

Christine frowned, a surge of jealousy going through her. "I thought _I_ was your angel!" She angrily tugged on his arm. "Erik! Look at me! What are you hearing?"

He turned to her slowly, his golden eyes blinking quickly. "Christine? Oh!" He quickly reached into his belt pack and pulled out his earplugs, twisting them in immediately. "Put yours in."

Christine looked up at him. "I didn't bring them."

"Why not?"

"Well I didn't know I NEEDED them!" She snapped. "I thought we were just looking for the boys!"

"It is the singing, Christine. I do not want you to hear it."

"I DON'T hear any singing. Who's supposed to be singing?"

Erik glanced down at her, "You cannot hear it?" She shook her head. "Of course… being female, perhaps you are immune. It is the Siren that has been luring all these campers to their deaths."

Christine looked at him flabbergasted. "Siren?" She sputtered. "You mean… something like in Homer's _Odyssey_?"

"Exactly like that, yes."

Christine's mind was reeling. "Of course…" she threw her free arm up, "Demons, vampires. Why not Sirens? Are there aliens too?"

"_That_ I don't know. But truly, beloved, did you never think that those myths were based on something? After all you have seen?"

"Ok… fine. So there are Sirens. But if I can't hear them anyway, what do earplugs matter?"

Erik met her eyes. "The earplugs are not to drown HER out, Christine. They are to drown ME out."

Christine didn't understand, but Erik pulled her on before she could ask him to clarify. She knew they were getting closer to the lake. The breeze was cool and Christine immediately wished she had brought a jacket.

She suddenly froze in her footsteps as they came upon the water, and the rocky island in the middle of it. "What is _that_?" she gasped, but she already knew the answer.

A winged woman stood on the small island formation, her arms held out to the four boys Christine and Erik had met earlier. They were walking precariously into the water, and Christine worried it wouldn't be long until they completely went under.

"HEY!" She shouted out, "GUYS! Look out!"

They paid no heed.

Christine glanced at the strange woman, then at Erik. He simply gestured her forward and clamped his hands over Christine's ears.

Christine was about to protest, but soon found she could not tear her eyes from the man before her as his heavenly singing filled her, the sound only somewhat muffled by his hands.

The boys halted briefly in response to Erik's interruption, but the Siren raised her voice higher. Erik easily followed suit.

The Siren stopped, the boys before her frozen. He could hear the silence that remained in the wake of her singing, and could not help but smirk. "Ear plugs…"

He wasn't sure which one this was. Pisinoe, Aglaope, or Thelxiepia. Why was she so very far from home? Cast out, perhaps?

"Why lead these young boys to their deaths?" He asked aloud.

"I am only singing. I do so enjoy it. It has been far too many years. I cannot help the control it has over foolish men."

Erik narrowed his eyes curiously. "Did something wake you?"

She did not answer, instead choosing to return to her song, to continue leading the boys to the death that awaited them. Erik responded in kind, his voice matching hers note for note in an attempt to overpower her control.

Far too caught up in his attempt to defeat the Siren's spell, Erik did not notice the change in Christine's body until he felt her little form pressing against him. He glanced down at his beloved only to see the fluttering of her eyelids, the quickening of her breath, and the parting of her lips. It was far too similar to her reaction during their private intimacies.

_Christine! Devil help me…_Erik cursed himself inwardly for not reminding her to bring her earplugs.

Not wishing to embarrass Christine in front of the others as she remained oblivious to her physical response, Erik tightened his hands upon her ears.

She soon relaxed, her breathing slowly returning to normal.

Erik's attention returned to the boys heading towards the Siren. He raised his voice once again, but the Siren put more effort into her song. Erik refused to be outdone, overpowering her voice with his own.

Finally, the boys stopped walking, though the Siren had not yet been silenced. They turned to see Erik, then noticed the water at their necks and the bird-woman only a few feet from them.

They immediately rushed back to shore, stumbling onto the rocks as they clamping their hands over their ears.

Losing her prey and realizing Erik had sung more effectively than her, the Siren shrieked in protest. Furious, she dove beneath the water, causing the water to rise over the shores, throwing up several bodies in the process.

Her victims. Every last one of them. How would this ever be explained to their families?

That was not for Erik's concern as he stopped his singing and looked down at the woman whose ears were still covered by his hands.

She blinked quickly at him, as if waking up from a dream. "What… what happened? Why do I feel like I just…" she suddenly blushed. "Erik? Your voice. Did… did it _do_ that to me?"

"It seems so," he began quietly, his voice somewhat strained from reaching notes he had not practiced in a long time, "I apologize. My singing had an unforeseen side-effect."

She shook her head, "It's ok. How's your throat?"

"I will be fine." He offered a quick glance back at the boys, who were finally coming to their senses. "I broke the spell, at least." The boys appeared to have woken from a dream.

"We probably have to help them get back to camp," Christine explained.

"Can we not just leave them here to figure it out on their own?" Erik asked hopefully. Christine frowned and smacked his chest. "No? Oh, very well…" he muttered, "At least I can wrap my rope around them. I will claim it is to keep us together."

"You have the Punjab lasso with you?" She asked disapprovingly.

"Do you ever expect me to be without it?" he asked. "I am not yet willing to give up my weapons."

Christine rolled her eyes with a sigh. "Can we go home first thing tomorrow morning? I've come to the conclusion that I'mNOT a 'great outdoors' person."

"Personally, I much prefer a cave myself…" He then turned to the boys, "Follow us if you want to get yourselves safely back to camp!" he ordered.

Arrogant as ever, the boys insisted they didn't need help. Erik simply shrugged as he took Christine's hand and walked on without them.

It didn't take long before they ran to catch up to the masked man.

**END OF EPISODE 1**


	2. Episode 2

**_A/N:Thanks to my beta, Olethros._**

* * *

**Erik: the Vampire Hunter - The Continuing Adventures **

Episode 2 

By: Elektra 

_**Several months earlier**_

Martine Robichaux followed the underground pathways into the remains of the temple. The tunnels had been dug by an archeological team currently studying here. 

_With a well placed spell, she had been able to hide her presence quite easily._

_Martine had heard the stories of this Greek island, of what lay buried beneath it. It had peaked her interest, had led her **here**. _

_With a shovel in hand, she found the spot where she sensed the strongest presence. The archeologists would never have thought to look here. Then again, she was looking for something very different than they were._

_After several minutes of digging, she knew the rest would have to be done with her hands. Kneeling on the ground, she began to remove the rest of the dirt very gently.._

_There It was. The object, wrapped in cloth centuries old. _

_She lifted It up, Its round weight heavy in her hands._

_Martine carefully slid the cloth off to reveal a lovely boyish face with smooth skin, surrounded by silky golden curls. One would never think this had been buried for thousands of years._

_"Wake up," she commanded gently. _

_Slowly, the sea-green eyes opened, blankly staring up at the woman who held It in her hands. This powerful woman had saved It from Its eternal torture beneath the ground._

_Before Martine could explain her purpose, her reasons for waking It, Its soft lips parted and released a sad mournful song that would wake long-slumbering creatures from every mystical plain._

* * *

**Opera Populaire – Above the Stage (present)**

Erik looked down from the catwalks as the rehearsals for Jacopo Peri's _Eurydice_ took place below him. His beloved was performing the title role perfectly, as was to be expected. Once her aria was done, she headed off stage to make room for the Corps de Ballet… minus two. 

"Sorelli! Jammes!" Madame Giry shouted as she banged her stick angrily. Erik allowed a small smile to appear on his lips from his hiding place. He would like to hear the two explain to Giry why they were late. 

Sorelli and Jammes ran out from backstage, tying their skirts around their hips, "Sorry, Madame," Jammes tried to explain, "But we couldn't find our skirts!" 

Erik watched as Madame Giry's steely gaze froze Jammes in her tracks, "Were the two of you not wearing your leotards?" she asked. 

"We… well… yes, Madame, we were. But we felt uncomfortable without the skirts, so we thought-" 

"You thought you would be late for rehearsal instead?" Giry interrupted. "Not only is that disrespectful, Ladies, but you should know by now how dangerous it is not to be properly warmed up!" 

Jammes bit her lip nervously. "We're sorry, Madame," she hung her head. 

_Foolish girls,_ Erik thought. _They would risk Antoinette's ire for vanity. _He continued to enjoy the scene unfolding before him. 

Madame Giry had turned her attention to Sorelli now, "And you? You could not even be bothered to put your pointe shoes on?" 

Sorelli seemed annoyed at the chewing out, but remained noticeably respectful. "Forgive me, Madame. Give me a moment here," she pulled on a pointe shoe with a hard tug, and screamed, throwing it off immediately only to reveal a bloody toe. Her eyes went wide as she cradled the injury. 

"What on Earth?" Madame Giry gasped. "Someone give me her shoe. NOW!" 

Meg quickly picked up the shoe and handed it over to her mother, then quickly returned to a whimpering Sorelli. Another girl grabbed the first aid kit from the wings and quickly tended to the bloody toe. 

"Who did this!" Giry demanded as a few shards of broken glass were emptied from the shoe. "Who DARED to do this?" 

There was no answer from the girls, all of them confused as to who or what had tried to harm one of their own. 

It was then that a shape caught Erik's eyes off to the left. A man, shorter and skinnier than he, stood watching the stage. He wore a long yellow tunic, cinched at the waist with a belt, and a pair of linen red and yellow trousers beneath. 

Odd clothing for this day and age, unless one was on one's way to a costume party. 

Before Erik could approach the strange man, he turned his sharply pointed face to him. 

"Wondeful view you have up here," he spoke nasally. "Are you the infamous opera ghost?" Erik said nothing, merely staring at the bold man before him. "Of course you are. I've heard tell of you," he laughed. "What silly tricks you play, though! Really. Hiding skirts!" He looked down his pointed nose at that. "The glass was far more entertaining, was it not?" 

Erik did not seem amused. "That girl may not on my list of favourite people, but even _I_ would not wish her an injury such as YOU have caused!" he hissed as he stalked towards the intruder. "Who are you?" 

"Oh! Forgive me." The man bowed politely, his waist-length red hair – bright as fire - nearly brushing the ground, "I am known as Loki." 

Erik narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Surely you jest!" 

"I am a _trickster_, not a _jester_." 

"You are telling me that you have come down from Asgard merely to torment the ballerinas at the Populaire?" Erik asked. 

Loki stared at Erik with an unwavering smile, his silvery eyes seeming to glow with a faint light. "Well, I was sleeping until now. When I awoke, I found myself rather bored. I searched around the mortal realm for a bit to find something to amuse me and came upon this place. The stories were just so fascinating!" 

"Sleeping?" Erik asked. "What awoke _you_, a Norse deity who has not seen the light of day for several millenia?" 

A laugh echoed throughout the building, causing those on the stage to glance around - no doubt thinking it was the ghost up to no good. "You ask a lot of questions." 

Erik narrowed his eyes, "You laugh now, but you will not be laughing for long!" 

He moved towards the man, but with one wave of Loki's hand, Erik suddenly found himself alone on the catwalk.

* * *

**Costume department**

Christine stood facing the mirror as the seamstress, known to everyone as Mrs. Jessup, went about pinning pieces of material together along the young girl's body. "This is just a rough pattern, dear," she explained. "It will look much nicer when it all comes together. 

She closed the last safety pin and asked Christine to turn around and give her a better look. She did so. "Oh, yes yes. That will do just fine. Goodness, you're just a tiny thing," she winked. 

Christine smiled in response and turned around to look in the mirror once again, briefly wondering if she could ask Mrs. Jessup to make her wedding dress when the time came. 

Before she could think on that, each and every pin on her dress came undone simultaneously, causing Christine to scream as the sharp points dug into her skin. 

Letting out a startled cry, Mrs. Jessup quickly set about doing each pin up again and yanking the costume from Christine. 

"I… I'm so sorry! That's never happened before!" Mrs. Jessup gasped as she grabbed the first aid kit and set about cleaning the bloody scratches that now decorated Christine's body. "Those pins are usually so reliable. They've never done that before!" she repeated. 

"It's ok," Christine replied as she winced at the antiseptic. "No real damage." 

"The ghost," Mrs. Jessup decided. "That's what it was! Honestly, this building needs an exorcism!" 

"He wouldn't do this," Christine replied absently. "Especially not to me." Mrs. Jessup looked at her with a raised eyebrow, "Erm… not that I'm anything special," Christine said quickly. "It's just… well… he… IT… doesn't do stuff like this. The ghost, I mean." 

Well, it was better than the truth at least. _You see, Mrs. Jessup. I'm on intimate terms with the ghost's highly active libido. The last thing he'd want to do is hurt me or piss me off. _No. Somehow Christine didn't think that would go over well. 

"But, It put glass in Sorelli's shoe," Mrs. Jessup pointed out. 

Christine shrugged, "We don't know that for sure. Sorelli's my friend and all, but sometimes she can rub people the wrong way," she said. 

Tonight, she would face Erik at home and ask him if he knew what was going on.

* * *

**Daaé-Garner Residence**

Christine knocked hesitantly on the door to Erik's workshop. She usually never bothered him while he was busy, but she had questions that needed answers. 

"Come in," he answered. 

"Erik," Christine started as she pushed the door open, "What happened at the theatre today?" 

Erik turned from his drafting table and met her eyes, "Loki." 

Christine furrowed her brow. "Who?" 

"Norse God of mischief. He disappeared when I confronted him." 

Christine blinked quickly, trying to let that sink in, "Wait, another myth come to life? Like the Siren?" 

Erik nodded, "Apparently someone is waking these… _things_… up." 

"So the glass in Sorelli's shoes, and my pins coming undone was all this _Loki_?" 

"Yes. But… pins?" Erik was suddenly on edge, his voice angry. "Did he do something to you?" 

"The seamstress was fitting my costume and the pins all came undone at the same time. Scratched me up a bit." 

"Let me see," Erik demanded. 

She raised her shirt to reveal the scratches along her side and belly, "Nothing that won't heal, but it wasn't fun." 

Erik gently traced his fingers over the scratches, "My poor Christine. This will not stand! I will go to the Populaire and search it top to bottom if I must." 

He was about to stand, but Christine gently pushed his shoulders back, "Not tonight you won't," she said. "There's no one he can hurt there right now anyway, so let yourself have a good night's sleep first. Tomorrow the ghost can search for Loki. Does the Guild know anything?" 

Erik reached out and tugged Christine into his lap, "I have informed them of the strange happenings, but they do not know how to get rid of a god, or any such creature, really." He paused a moment, "Well… unless one wants to bring about the end of the world, but somehow I think that might get a little too messy,"

* * *

**_Several Months Earlier_**

_Martine caressed the disembodied head that sat before her on the table and lit candles on the ground surrounding it. "Now, my dear, we need to get you a body."_

_The beautiful eyes simply searched the room: back and forth, up and down. "Why am I here?" he asked in his lovely voice, for this 'head' was certainly a 'he'. "Where is my beloved?"_

_Martine sighed, "She is gone and I do not have any reason to bring her back. I have my own plans for you."_

_"I must be with her!" The lovely boyish face cried, unconcerned with what Martine was saying. "I must be with my love!"_

_Martine sighed in disappointment, "You do not understand. Ever since I was a child, I had heard the stories about you. I wished to see you for myself." She let out a soft laugh, "I thought I had found you once, but it turns out that heavenly voice belonged to a living corpse – complete with his own body and his own love. **Your** heavenly voice is the true prize I desire."_

_She then smiled, "Unfortunately, I cannot give you your old body back, but I do have one that is slightly used, its last inhabitant having no more use for it anymore. I do hope you don't mind, my dear." _

_Not bothering to wait for a reply, Martine began her spell. _

* * *

**Catwalks above the stage - present**

"You!" Erik stormed over to the creature looking down upon the stage, "How DARE you harm Christine?" 

Loki looked over at Erik, unsure what he was talking about."Who is Christine?" 

"The Populaire's Diva," Erik replied quickly, not wanting Loki to know his anger was personal. "She is what makes this theatre money. To have her injured would be distressful for all." 

Loki shrugged non-chalantly, "Scratches, nothing more. Pretty thing, though. I might make her one of my mistresses." 

That was all Erik needed to launch himself at Loki… only to find himself momentarily blinded. 

When his vision returned, he was surrounded by stone, chained to the wall.

* * *

**Dressing Room **

"Christine…" Meg came up to Christine as she set her bag down, "Tell me Erik hasn't taken to purposely injuring the Corps de Ballet?" 

"Are you talking about the glass in Sorelli's shoe?" Christine asked. "That wasn't Erik. He'd never do that." 

"Well, everyone's all paranoid about their pointe shoes now. It's started accusations and my mom is having a time trying to get everyone under control." 

"If anyone can take control, it's your mom," Christine winked. 

"Good point," Meg answered. "I'll see you after rehearsal." 

Christine nodded and waved to Meg as she headed off. She then looked around the dressing room, very much alone now. "Erik is going to get you…" she muttered to whatever creature may be listening. 

Speaking of Erik, she couldn't help but wonder where the resident ghost had disappeared to.

* * *

**Beneath the Opera House**

"How fun is this?" Loki asked as he stood before Erik. "The opera ghost locked up while another trickster takes over his theater. No one is the wiser, you know." 

Erik did not seem impressed. 

Loki tried once again to get a response, "Tell me, is your name _Erik_?" He asked. "That lovely blonde diva mentioned that you would get me. She sounded pretty passionate about it, too." He narrowed his eyes, "Are you sleeping with her?" 

Erik refused to comment, instead opting to yank at the chains currently holding him to a rock wall. No doubt it was something Loki had rigged up on his own. 

The deity before him laughed until tears fell, seeing that his prey could not get away. "Oh yes, this is much more entertaining than the time I cut off Sif's hair! 

"I am glad you are taking pleasure in this," Erik hissed, "Now FREE me!" 

"Why would I do that? I am having too much fun. Goodness, I've been asleep far too long. I'm not about to stop now! Besides, I am a GOD. I can do what I wish," he scoffed arrogantly. 

"You are not a _true_ god," Erik pointed out. "You _sneaked_ your way into becoming a god. Born of two giants, were you not?" 

Before Loki could respond, a voice rose up in his ears. A voice that demanded attention. 

_"What have you done here, Loki?"_

Loki jumped and turned, trying to find the source of the voice. "Did you hear that?" 

"Hear what?" Erik asked. 

_"Loki, are you playing tricks on the mortals again?"_

Loki glanced around the deserted dusty dorms, "My Lord, it is just harmless fun," he replied innocently. 

_"Must I return you to the snake pit? Must your poor wife catch the serpent's venom in her bowl for all eternity again?"_

"NO!" Loki sputtered, eyes growing wide. "Highness, PLEASE!" 

"Why are you speaking to yourself?" Erik demanded. 

Loki looked back at him, "Do you not hear my Lord Odin?" 

"All I hear is you talking to yourself. Are you not having fun any more?" Erik taunted. 

"Shut up!" Loki snipped childishly, his worry growing even greater. "Please, Highness… don't send me back there." 

_"I will do what I must, Loki. Your behaviour is growing troublesome…"_

"But…" his eyes filled with fear, his tone shaking. "A voice woke me up. I heard it! This sad mournful song filled my ears. Surely you heard it too?" 

Erik studied the creature before him, "What voice was that?" he asked curiously. Was there truly a voice powerful enough to wake a long-sleeping god? Did this voice wake the Siren as well? 

Loki ignored Erik's question, looking around nervously, "My lord?" He called out softly. "Odin? Are… are you still here?" 

_"I am everywhere, Loki. I demand you return to me now, or punishment will be dealt."_

Loki hung his head in shame, "Yes, my lord. Just… please… do not throw me in the serpent's pit again…" 

In a blinding flash of light, Loki was gone – replaced by a very confused Christine. "What the… Erik?" she asked as she glanced over at the man currently chained up. 

"I don't suppose you have a key?" Erik asked. 

"Umm…" she furrowed her brow and felt something against her chest. She looked down to see the key in a rather personal place. She reached into her shirt and pulled it out. "Guess so…" she looked back at him, and smirked. "Think we should take the chains home?" 

She saw a flash of excitement in his golden eyes, but he quickly covered it up. "Perhaps you should just unshackle me." 

Christine laughed in response and went over to free her fiancé from his embarrassing predicament. 

Once he was freed, he jumped to his feet. "Now," he said as he took her hand and led her through the darkness, "It is time for the ghost to return to the theatre proper and explain that HE was not the one playing tricks as of late."

* * *

**Elsewhere**

Loki prostrated himself before the stone throne, "Forgive me, Odin. I did not think such play would be looked down upon." He looked up, "After all, it is not as if we gods are strangers to fooling with the mortals," he smirked. 

The large man with the long white beard looked down at him, his left eye black and empty, his right eye blazing like the sun. "Have you been gone, Loki? I did not notice…" 

Loki looked upon his Lord, a little annoyed at such disrespect. Did Odin not consider his presence, or lack thereof, important enough to notice? "Highness? I heard your voice demanding I come back." 

"I have been far too busy taking care of the sudden wakening of the gods in Asgard to concern myself with your taunting of the mortals. Surely you know. Your own wakening happened only a short while ago." 

"But then who-" 

"I do not know who you heard, but it was not me," Odin then offered a small smile. "Perhaps you were bested by one of the mortals." 

"Impossible! No one bests Loki!" The mischievous god insisted. 

Odin chuckled at that, "Perhaps you are not the King of tricks you claim to be," 

Loki stood up angrily, _and perhaps you are not the King of gods you claim to be…_ he thought silently. 

Without another word, Loki turned on his heel and left the throne room, rather humiliated that he had been out-tricked by a mortal claiming to be an opera ghost. 

**End of Episode 2**


	3. Episode 3

**_A/N: Thanks to my beta, Olethros._**

* * *

**Erik: the Vampire Hunter - The Continuing Adventures **

Episode 3

By: Elektra

"Are you sure Loki is gone?" Giry asked Erik as the two stood in a private shadowed corner at the Populaire.

"For the moment, at least. He fell easily for my trick. He was not exactly the smartest creature. I simply used an authoritative tone to make him believe it was his King speaking in his head." Erik shrugged, "I do not even know what Odin sounds like."

Giry nodded, but seemed concerned, "You know the saying, Erik – 'fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…'" she let the sentence trail. "I doubt he will fall for such a thing again."

"Well, let us I hope I do not have a reason to use the same trick twice, then,"

* * *

**_Several Months Ago_**

_"How does it feel?" Martine asked as she looked upon the tall beautiful man before her. _

_His hair, once golden blonde, was now streaked with black, a side effect of merging with a body once belonging to another. _

_"It feels so very strange," he replied as he looked upon his nude form in the mirror. He turned his eyes to Martine, the sea-green irises now flecked with gold. "But whose body is this? Would he not want it back?"_

_"He is gone," Martine assured him, "And I much prefer you to him." _

_"Thank you," he replied, then cocked his head to the left. "Where is my love?" _

_"She is not important. But THIS is. Listen close. You will have a new name and a new identity."_

_"What is wrong is my current one?"_

_"Oh, dear one… just trust me."_

* * *

**Opera Populaire – Box 5 (present)**

Erik watched the opening performance of Jacopo Peri's _Eurydice_ with a critical eye and ear. Christine was playing the title character, but at the moment, the heartbroken Orpheus was mourning her death in song, making the gods and nymphs weep with his voice.

As Erik watched the so-called 'nymphs' dancing – the corps de ballet - the straps from Sorelli's costume snapped, causing it to slip a little too low for decency.

_Both straps?_ He thought to himself. _That's_ _very unusual. _He gave credit to the girl, though. She was trying to remain professional until she was able to head offstage.

"I thought I had gotten rid of you," Erik said aloud as he felt another presence appear behind him.

"Oh, that little ventriloquism trick? Did you honestly think I'd fall for it?"

Erik stood up and turned to face the annoying creature with the fiery red-hair. "You seemed to. Now if you don't mind, I would like you OUT of my theatre!"

"Calm now, Mr. Opera Ghost. Don't blow a gasket." Loki then smiled proudly, "That was mortal slang, you know," he furrowed his brow, "but it's really very strange. I mean, what is a _gasket_, and how does a man blow one?"

Erik had no patience for Loki's games, "Get. Out."

"OH!" Loki gasped, turning away as something suddenly caught his interest. His silvery eyes looked over the audience. "Interesting…" He glanced back at Erik, "Can't you feel him?"

"I feel nothing except annoyance at the moment."

"Oh yes yes… that seems to be the norm for you." Loki dismissed Erik with a wave of his hand as he turned his attention back to the audience, focusing on one particular person. "His presence would explain much," he mused aloud.

Erik turned to see whom it was that had caught Loki's attention, "What is _she_ doing here?" he muttered as his eyes fell on Martine Robichaux.

"Well, it's not the lady I'm interested in. It is her companion,"

Erik moved closer to the edge of Box 5 and saw the man sitting beside her - a man who looked as if he had stepped off the cover of a romance novel. "Why him?"

Loki glanced at Erik, then back at Martine and her companion. He rubbed his hands together gleefully. "I think I will stick around your theatre a while longer, O.G. I have a feeling that things might get very interesting soon."

"But _who_ is-" Erik turned back to the trickster, only to find Loki gone.

* * *

**66 Laramie Dr. – Later that night**

"It was her!" Oren Pheryus cried out as he returned home with Martine. "It was my love," he insisted. "That sweet angel on stage!"

Martine sighed to herself. The boy would not shut up since they had returned from the Opera. Perhaps she had picked the wrong performance to bring him to. "She _was_ quite a talent, but she is not available to you."

"It is not a matter of available. She IS mine! You saw her, did you not? It is HER, I tell you!"

"Christine Daaé is NOT _her_. Trust me on this. I do not think her fiancé would appreciate you laying claim."

"What is a _fiancé_?" Oren asked.

"Her betrothed. Her _lover_," Martine stressed.

"When she sees me, she will be _my_ fiancée then," Oren replied innocently, as if it were all so simple.

Martine raised an eyebrow, "Somehow I don't think that will be as easy as you believe,"

Oren studied her a moment, then furrowed his brow, "Why did you bring me here if not for her?"

"Why indeed," Martine sighed as she made herself comfortable on the couch. "The simple answer is, I wanted to."

"Were you lonely, Lady Martine?" Oren asked gently as he sat beside her. "Is _your_ love gone too?"

Martine seemed wistful, "I did have a love at one time, and yes, he is gone now. Mortals get sick and die, after all." She looked at the lovely young man before her. "Ahh, but he did love _your_ story." She shrugged her shoulders, "A selfish reason for bringing you back, but there it is."

"Is this _his_ body I now inhabit?" Oren asked.

"Oh goodness no. His body is long since dust. _Your_ body is special, but I did not have any love for its previous owner."

Oren nodded, then looked around the room they now sat in, "And this house? Is it yours?"

Martine caught the man's eyes, "It is _now_."

* * *

**Daaé-Garner Residence **

Erik stared up at the ceiling while he gently played with the silky blonde ringlets splayed across his torso, their lovely owner sleeping contentedly atop him. He could not help but wonder what Loki had been referring too earlier. The man in the audience with Martine had caught his attention, but why?

After the obligatory appearance at the after-party – of which he could only handle two hours, not being comfortable in such a crowded room – he had returned home with Christine, intent on sharing his earlier confrontation with her. His beloved, however, riding an adrenaline high, had wanted to share something else altogether.

Tonight, she had not only looked like a goddess on stage, but in their bed as well, moving above him, as his hands caressed that lovely little form, her hair surrounding his face as she leaned down to meet his lips. And then her beautiful eyes had focused on his horrid visage and she had said one word:

"Mine."

Afterwards, they had both lain quiet and content until sleep came. He had woken up a short time ago, having never needed as much sleep as others, but Christine's breathing was still soft and deep with the smallest hint of a light snore.

Erik briefly wondered if _he_ snored.

And then he wondered what Loki had been up to.

The self-proclaimed god had claimed the man in the audience was of some importance. Perhaps it was all related to the strange creatures that had been popping up as of late.

_A voice woke me up._

Erik recalled what Loki had said some weeks ago. Whose voice was he talking about, though? And what other creatures could the Guild expect to 'wake up'?

It was times like this when Erik wished there were more vampires on the loose. At least _they_ were easier to deal with.

* * *

**Outside the Populaire – the next week**

Oren stood by the box office. It had yet to open, but he was eager to be first in line to get tickets for the rest of the season. A _subscription_, it was called. Martine had given him money to do with as he wished, but had insisted that he find his own means sooner rather than later.

He had since taken to plying his musical talents on the street.

In this day and age, he was called a busker. In _his_ time, he had been called a minstrel. He was learning very quickly that this was not _his_ time any longer.

"Pardon me," a voice spoke up behind Oren. He turned to see a man standing behind him, a smile upon his face as he looked down his pointed nose at him. "Did I see you performing on the street yesterday? Around twelve p.m.?"

Oren's eyes lit up proudly. "Yes! Yes, that was I."

"Singing, weren't you? You have a voice like the angels."

"Thank you, sir," Oren smiled.

"Why, I'd say your voice could move even_ Hades_ himself."

Oren shifted from left to right uncomfortably. _Surely this man does not know…_ he thought, then spoke aloud. "Yes, well, thank you again…" he tried to walk around the red-head, but the smaller man seemed rather quick on his feet, blocking Oren's escape.

"I want to make you an offer,"

"Pardon?" Oren asked.

"I'm very good at influencing people."

Oren remained confused.

The man's smile did not waver, but he was growing somewhat impatient. "I wish to be your agent."

"What is an _agent_?"

The man frowned a little now, "By Odin, you are a slow one…" he muttered, then plastered the smile on again, "I mean I can get you a job. Get you money. REPRESENT you. Allow you to show off your talent somewhere OTHER than on the street or in the subway."

Oren seemed pleased by this, "You can?"

"Yes! Even - dare I say it – a position at the Populaire," he put a hand on Oren's shoulder and glanced up at the large imposing building. "You seem so very fond of this place, after all,"

Oren's eyes seemed to glaze over as he thought of something rather wonderful, _At the Populaire… where I can be close to her._

"So are you agreeable?"

Oren's attention went back to the strange man, "Yes! Most definitely!" He replied happily.

"Excellent. And as a special deal for you and you alone," his grey eyes glinted with mischief, "I'll only take _sixty_ percent of what you make instead of the usual ten or fifteen percent that _other_ agents take." He leaned forward conspiratorially, lowering his voice to a whisper, "Thieves, the lot of them."

"Oh sir, your offer sounds very fair!" Oren seemed ecstatic. "Thank you!" He eagerly held a hand out, "My name is Oren Pheryus. And you?"

The man shook Oren's hand hesitantly, a little concerned that Oren's bad case of _stupid_ would rub off on him. "I am Lok–erm-Lowell Key. Yes, Lowell Key, agent to the opera stars! It will be a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Pheryus. A great pleasure!"

* * *

**The Populaire – a month later**

Christine leaned against a column in Box 5 as she took a break from the day's hectic schedule. The first opera of the season had finished. Now it was time for the next one: Gounod's _Romeo and Juliet_.

What good was it, however, when their lead tenor was currently suffering from laryngitis? Or rather, the understudy, as the originator of the role had been fired for unprofessional behaviour a few days earlier and had yet to be replaced.

Of course, the lead had denied all that he had been accused of, such as peeping into the Ladies' dressing rooms and stealing their undergarments. He had even been seen lumbering around drunkenly with a pair of Jammes' lace panties upon his head, then claimed he did not remember how they had gotten there nor why he felt so out-of-sorts. He had, instead, blamed it all on the Opera Ghost

Christine knew it _wasn't_ the Opera Ghost.

The actor was, without question, a full-on pervert. He had even tried to grope Meg in the wings while she had waited for her cue.

At least he had admitted _that_.

But now, Firmin and André were at a loss, and there was only one person Christine knew who could fill in on such short notice. One particular man with a voice like an angel. He not only knew _Romeo and Juliet_ by heart, but every single opera in the Populaire's season.

Of course, _she_ had been given the dubious task to 'talk him into it'.

Before Christine could call for the opera ghost, long bony fingers grabbed her shoulders, pulling her into darkness as the column shifted behind her. She could not even cry out his name before she felt a demanding mouth upon her own.

Strong hands grasped her backside, lifting her up and pressing her against a stone wall. On instinct, her legs slid around a narrow waist, fingers slipping beneath the cotton material that covered a very distinctive face.

"No," a silky voice breathed as the mouth parted from hers. "I will not do it."

Christine blinked a moment, trying to focus on what the man currently pressed full against her was saying. "Wha…?"

"I will not perform. I do not care if André and Firmin are cornered. They should have planned for this."

_Of course_, Christine thought. _He already knows…_

She plastered on her sweetest smile, knowing he could still see it in the darkness, "Erik, my dear sweet honey-bunny-"

"_What_ did you call me?" Erik interrupted before Christine could say more.

"My dear sweet honey-bunny?" she repeated innocently.

"I love you, Christine… but… do NOT call me that again. _Ever_."

Christine laughed, "Only if you promise to be my Romeo."

"A _masked_ Romeo. That would be an interesting twist," he scoffed.

"I think it would be sexy," she winked, "At the end, Romeo could even take off his mask and really look dead."

Erik studied her, surprised at her words. "You rarely comment on my appearance that way …"

"I figure I'd say it before _you_ did," Christine pointed out. Erik met her eyes for a moment, then suddenly pressed his mouth hotly against hers, startling the girl in his arms.

"Whoa!" Christine gasped when he finally broke the kiss, "If I knew it meant that much to you, I'd talk about your corpsey looks more often,"

He nuzzled his masked face against her neck, "Be my guest. I find it rather _exciting_, actually."

"Stop," she smacked his shoulder playfully. "Will you do it or not?"

He raised his head once more, "I don't know." He placed her back on the ground. "If there is no other choice, I suppose I could – provided Firmin and André see fit to PAY me. They are rather contemptible when it comes to such things."

"So is that a yes?"

Erik sighed. "It's not as if the managers will find anyone else on such short notice."

* * *

**The Populaire – later that day**

Firmin clapped his hands, demanding attention from the company before him. "Attention everyone. I want to introduce our newest member. Brought to our attention by his manager, Mr. Lowell Key, he has shown his musical skills both instrumental and vocal far exceeding our expectations. He will be our temporary Romeo until our current Romeo is healthy again."

He turned to the young man behind him, "Oren Pheryus, this is our company. I would like to introduce them all in turn." Firmin did so, seeing the excitement and thrill upon Oren's boyish face. Last but not least, he came to the lead soprano. "And this lovely lady will be your Juliet – Ms. Christine Daaé."

Oren could not look away from her as he kissed the top of her hand, "Finally we meet..."

Christine studied the man for a moment, wondering at that comment, but thought perhaps he had been an admirer. Christine was aware she had been getting a lot of buzz lately in the latest Arts papers. Maybe that was why this man seemed so glad to meet her.

As she pondered this, she remained blissfully unaware of the flash of red hair high above the stage… or the glowing golden eyes glaring from the wings.

**End of Episode 3**


	4. Episode 4

**_A/N:Thanks to my beta, Olethros._**

* * *

**Erik: the Vampire Hunter - The Continuing Adventures **

Episode 4

By: Elektra

**Elsewhere**

Hades' eyes opened slowly.

Something had disturbed his slumber, waking him from a millennia-long sleep.

It was a voice. A mournful voice. He had heard it once before, begging him for pity. He had granted that pity, but the Voice had not listened to him. How dare it come to him now!

Hades' mind reached out for answers, absorbing the snippets of information it found.

The voice, long-thought lost, had found a new body.

_Where is the original owner of this body?_

Hades searched for it. The owner was… displaced. It existed only as a consciousness in perpetual darkness. Alive, but not living.

_Would you like to go back…?_ He asked it.

_Who are you? Why do you call for me?_ It responded.

_I know where your body is. Someone else is using it. I wish to know more about this someone. Are you interested in taking physical form again?_

_YES!_ It answered. _I have grudges_ _to settle above. I need my body back!_

_Then fight for it_, Hades answered. _I will give you the means to return, but you must report to me about events that occur. Then… if you wish… you may fight to regain your body. You may exorcise the being inside it and be yourself once again._

_Why can **you** not investigate above if you are so powerful?_ It asked.

_My power is only down here. Above ground, I am nothing. Do you agree to this deal or not?_ He asked.

_Very well, I will agree. _

_Excellent. I look forward to your reports._

Hades then did as he promised, sending the owner of the Voice's new body back. He heard, or rather, FELT a scream as the spirit was shoved unceremoniously inside Its former host.

He closed his eyes to savour the echoing shudder of pain.

* * *

**The Populaire**

A small group had gathered to watch Oren Pheryus rehearsing his part for the Populaire's new production of _Romeo and Juliet_. The corps de ballet had become his unofficial fan club, always trailing behind him like loyal puppy dogs.

Erik watched the man from the wings, unimpressed.

"What's so special about him?" A voice spoke up beside the masked man.

Erik glanced over to see a handsome blonde man of average height watching Oren with his arms crossed. "Jealous, DeChagny?"

Raoul scoffed, "Hardly. I was only curious. I mean, he's just a pretty boy with a pretty voice. Nothing special."

Erik studied the fresh-faced young man beside him, "I know a few pretty boys who are nothing special…"

Raoul didn't seem to notice the hidden insult in Erik's comment, "I'm glad Meggy is different from the girls standing there mooning over him,"

"Different, you say? So I suppose that is not Little Giry watching with the other ballerinas?" Erik pointed out a strawberry blonde amongst the crowd.

Raoul stepped forward to see, "Where?" He looked for a few moments.

Suddenly there came a slight crack in Oren's voice. It was noticeable even to one who did not have much music knowledge. "Ha! He messed up!" Raoul laughed, "Told you he was nothing special."

Erik narrowed his eyes, curious how someone as skilled as Oren seemed could falter on such a simple note. The boy had appeared momentarily distracted. He had quickly caught himself, however, and continued the rest of the duet flawlessly.

Erik glanced back at Raoul once again, "For someone who is not jealous, it is rather petty of you to laugh at his mistake."

Raoul glared back at him, "If anyone should be jealous, it should be _you_." He turned back to Oren and Christine's duet, "It looks like your fiancée really IS attracted to him."

"Shut up, DeChagny!" Erik hissed.

"Weren't YOU supposed to fill in for Romeo?"

Erik scowled,"That is not important!"

Raoul laughed, "I knew it. You want to stake the guy, don't you?"

"A stake would be far too messy. It would be better to _execute_ him…"

Raoul took a step back, "That's not funny!"

The masked man shrugged and glanced back at Oren as Christine finished her last note and headed offstage. "_I_ found it funny,"

"You're still a creepy bastard," Raoul muttered.

"You're still a witless fop," Erik replied.

"And you're both going to be sleeping on the couch if you don't stop talking about Oren behind his back!"

The two men spun around to see Christine and Meg staring at them, arms crossed.

"Meg!" Raoul plastered a smile on his face, arms opened wide for a hug, hoping she wasn't serious about the couch. After a moment's hesitation, Meg allowed a small smile in return and welcomed his embrace.

"Christine…" Erik held a hand out to her. She promptly ignored it. "Oh come now, angel. You don't think I would really _hurt_ the boy, do you?" She still remained silent. "Well, perhaps _torment_ him a little, but that's all."

"At least you're honest," Christine replied, finally taking his hand. "I have to get back to rehearsals. Are you going to be lurking around somewhere?"

"Of course. I would be a poor excuse for a ghost if I didn't." Erik replied.

"Me and Meg are going to the Open Mic club afterwards. Want to join us?" Erik simply looked at her. She knew his answer. "Right. I'll be home late then."

Christine gave him a quick kiss on his cheek – or rather, his mask – then pulled Meg away from Raoul. The two girls waved good-bye and headed back to rehearsals.

* * *

**An hour later**

"May I sit here, Ms Christine?"

Christine turned to see Oren joining her in the orchestra seats. Neither of them were needed on stage at the moment. "Sure!"

He sat down and smiled at her, "May I say, you have a beautiful voice, Ms Christine.I have never heard its equal."

Christine blushed, "I have a good teacher."

"Oh? I would like to meet him one day."

Christine nodded. "I think you two would have a lot in common. You both love music, you both sing like angels." She leaned closer, "You know, the managers even asked him to play Romeo. But then you showed up to save our butts instead."

"You are constantly in contact with your teacher?" Oren asked.

Christine laughed, "I'm _living_ with him." She held out her hand, showing Oren the engagement ring, "We got engaged a little while ago." She leaned back, "I should introduce the two of you. Do you play an instrument, too?"

"Ah, yes." He replied excitedly. "I am quite skilled on the-" he stopped. He could say _lyre_ but realized such an instrument was rarely used in this day and age. "Guitar." He answered quickly.

Martine had introduced him to a guitar a few weeks after she had given him his new body. He had been so very desperate to play something, anything, that he did not mind the odd looking instrument. He had picked it up quickly and had been performing regularly with it when his manager, Lowell, had claimed to see him on the street.

"I wish I could play an instrument." Christine replied wistfully. She suddenly clapped her hands together, "OH! Meg and I are going to a club nearby that allows people to show off their talents. Comedians, musicians, you name it. We love going there to see who has the guts to strut their stuff. If you want, you can come with. Get yourself up on stage and show off your skills."

"Show off? Ah, you mean, present them to others?"

"Yeah," Christine replied, wondering why the man seemed to be so out of the loop at times.

"That should be enjoyable. But… who is Meg?"

"Meg Giry. She's in the Corps de Ballet. My best friend." She explained. "So, are you interested? It's a great way to get noticed."

"Is working _here_ not a way to get noticed?"

"Yes yes, but this is a chance to do your OWN stuff. Your own music."

Oren nodded enthusiastically. "I would be very interested in that!"

"Excellent. We'll meet after rehearsal and head out. It'll be fun!"

"I look forward to it, Ms. Christine. Very much."

* * *

**Above the stage**

Erik was watching rehearsals from above the stage, making note of imperfections that he could bring up to the managers, who could then inform the director. Off to the side, he noticed Christine speaking to her Romeo, and seethed a little.

Surely there was no reason for him to be jealous. The only thing Oren had on him was his pretty face. Erik was sure _his_ voice could make women swoon just as much as Oren's did. In fact, Erik's voice had made _Christine_ swoon on more than one occasion. Not to mention _CAM's _songs seemed to be quite popular with young ladies.

"Oh look at that. The Diva is making friends…"

Erik spun around to see Loki standing a few feet away, watching Christine smiling at Oren. "YOU brought him here!"

"I did." Loki admitted, "But look, aren't they cute? The way she affectionately touches his hand, his arm. I wonder what else she'd like to touch."

Loki soon found Erik's hand around his throat, "She is not like that!" he hissed.

Loki's eyes went wide as he tried to breathe, "What did I do-" he coughed, "… to raise your ire?"

"Other than being a general nusiance?"

"She…" Loki coughed desperately, "She even asked him out… to… to… some club!"

Erik tossed Loki away, "She would not do that!"

Loki grasped his neck protectively, gasping for breath. "You're acting like a jealous boyfriend. One would think you are a little more involved in the Populaire than simply haunting it." He tilted his head to the left, "I asked you once before if you were sleeping with her. You never did answer me. I'm starting to think I was right."

Erik took a step towards Loki again, and the self-proclaimed god held up his hands, "Okay, I'll stop asking." He put a hand to his throat again, "Goodness, Mr. Ghost! You have quite the death grip. Perhaps you ARE Death. Who knows what you're hiding behind that mask."

"Pray you never find out!" Erik hissed, then quickly headed off.

* * *

**Open Mic – after rehearsals**

"I never knew you could play guitar," Meg said to Oren as herself, Christine, and the new tenor took their seats.

"I can play a few instruments, Ms Megan. I look forward to performing for the crowd," Oren replied as he glanced around the club. It seemed to be packed with a wide range of people. Young women, their boyfriends, and a few hopefuls who were quietly practicing their songs or comedy routines.

"Is Raoul coming?" Christine asked Meg.

She shook her head, "Phil needed him for some business. I won't even ask about Erik. I know he doesn't like going out,"

"Perhaps I will make an exception tonight," a voice spoke up behind Christine. She tilted her head back to see Erik behind her.

Christine smiled cheerfully, "Sit sit!" she pat the seat to her right. Erik quickly sat down. Christine gestured to the man on her left, "Oren, this is Erik. Erik, Oren." She turned to Erik, "He's like _you_ when it comes to his music. You two should collaborate or something."

Oren leaned forward, studying the man at Christine's side, "It is good to meet you, sir. Are you Christine's teacher?"

"Teacher, and _Fiancé_," the masked man was quick to point out.

"Oh… yes…" Oren leaned back again. "She did mention that." He then furrowed his brow, "Is there a reason you hide your face, sir?"

Christine quickly grasped Erik's hand, noticing the change in his body language. She was quite sure he was about to jump down Oren's throat for even asking.

"The performances are starting," Meg said, aware of the sudden drop in temperature between the two men. It was worse than when Erik and Raoul were together.

In fact, Erik and Raoul had been tolerating each other quite well lately. It was almost surreal.

As the performances continued on, Oren finally got his chance on stage, making himself comfortable on the stool, guitar in hand. He addressed the crowd with a smile – which in turn caused the females in the crowd to smile - and began.

"Wow…" she breathed, "He really IS amazing."

Erik narrowed his eyes as he studied his fiancée. He did not like what he saw.

When Oren was done, he was treated to a loud round of applause. Several of the ladies were standing up and whistling, the men they had arrived with long forgotten.

Christine had joined in the applause and whistles.

Oren thanked the crowd and headed back to his seat. Erik jumped to his feet, pushing past Oren angrily before he took to the stage.

"What is he doing?" Christine asked Meg.

Meg stared at her blankly, as one would a slow child, "Isn't it obvious?"

"Yes, but…" Christine's breath caught as Erik began to play the piano, his voice joining shortly after. The voice was heartbreakingly beautiful, though she had always known it.

Both Oren and Erik sounded how Christine imagined angels would. There was a difference, however. Oren's voice was sweet and gentle, Erik's voice held a darkness and danger. Oren's voice made one think of untouched innocence. Erik's voice…

"Damn, Chrissy. I'm going to need a cigarette when he's done," Christine glared at Meg. "What?" her friend asked. "You think I'm the only one? Look around."

Christine took in the other females in the club, frowning when she saw the looks upon their faces.

Meg continued, "I mean, I've heard Erik sing before, but that was different. He's never sounded like… well… like _sex_."

"MEGGY!" Christine gasped, a blush on her cheeks. Truth be told, Erik had sung this way on _many_ occasions. But those had been private concerts for her ears only.

"What are you worried about? _You're_ the only one taking him home." Meg then shrugged, "Of course, you're the only one who has the hots for living corpses, too."

"I am sorry, Ms Christine. Ms Meg? What are you two referring to?" Oren asked.

Christine and Meg exchanged glances, then Meg quickly spoke. "Nothing to worry your pretty head about, Oren. Just… um… an in-joke between me and Chrissy…"

"Ah, I see." Oren nodded, but it was obvious he was still confused.

"CAM!" A voice suddenly cried out from the back, interrupting the awkward moment. Christine turned to see a woman standing up, eyes wide as she gestured desperately to the man on stage. "You're CAM!"

This was quickly followed by several gasps and cries of acknowledgement.

Christine put a hand to her head, "Oh, Erik…" she groaned.

The cat was out of the bag.

* * *

Erik stopped playing when he heard the cry from the back, realizing what he had just done. 

_Of all the foolish things… _

He had not even thought about the song before he played. It was simply the first one that had come to mind. In his attempt to show Oren up, he had done what he had sworn never to do.

He had made CAM public.

Erik quickly bolted off the stage and grabbed Christine, all but dragging her out of the club as some of CAM's more enthusiastic fans attempted to converge on their idol.

"What have you _done_?" Christine shouted over the noise.

"Something very stupid," Erik replied as he pulled her into the alley, trying to disappear in the shadows. "Get on!" He gestured to his bike, neatly parked against the wall.

"What about Meg and Oren?" Christine protested as Erik jumped on and revved the engine.

"They can find their own way home. Hurry!"

Christine quickly hopped on behind him. "Why did you do that? Was it some _guy_ thing? Did you want to prove something?"

She let out a startled yelp and grabbed onto Erik as he sped the bike out of the alley and away from the club. Christine glanced back only briefly to see the confused gathering of CAM fans pouring out the doors.

* * *

**Daaé-Garner Residence – the next morning**

Christine woke to the sound of her clock radio. She rolled over only to find the other side of the bed empty.

She closed her eyes, remembering what had happened the night before.

After the commotion at the club, Erik and Christine had finally made their way back home. She had tried to talk to him, ask him what he was thinking. He had brushed off her questions and hidden himself in the basement.

He had not come back up.

"… and a surprise for those at the Open Mic club on Crawford Avenue last night," came the DJ's voice from the radio. "They were treated to a special performance by CAM. It was the first-ever public appearance of the reclusive recording artist. The man, however, hid his face from the crowd with a black mask."

Christine shot up in bed and glared at the radio as the DJ droned on. She then heard sound clips from those who were at the club:

"... he was really tall, and… omigod… so hot! I mean, you couldn't see his face, but… he had this black t-shirt on and a long black coat … and _really tight jeans_! He was awesome!"

Christine could do nothing but bury her face in her hands, unsure whether she wanted to laugh or cry.

The DJ's voice continued, "He was seen in the company of two women and a man, leaving with one of the women when the crowd grew too rambunctious. While one of his remaining companions refused to speak, his other companion seemed eager to be interviewed."

"CAM? I do not know that name… but the man who sang was Erik. He is Christine's Daaé's fiancé." That was Oren's voice.

Christine's eyes went wide. _Dammit, Oren! You have no idea what you just did!_

Christine felt the bed depress behind her and knew Erik had joined her. "You promised me…" she said softly. "You promised me you wouldn't make a spectacle of CAM." She turned to looked at him. "Everyone is going to be looking for you now."

"I've been hiding all my life, Christine. This will be no different."

"Why did you do it?" She demanded.

Erik glanced away, "I saw the way you reacted to Oren's singing. It… did not sit well with me."

"Are you serious? It was _jealousy_?"

"Tell me, beloved," he hissed, "If I _looked_ like Oren, would you wish me to hide?"

"Erik..." Christine slid her arms around his neck. "I'm not going to lie. Your looks DO have something to do with my worries here. What you did last night is going to make people curious. It'll open you up to scrutiny!"

She then pushed away and lay down. "You said you didn't like my reaction to Oren's singing, but those girls at the club… the way _they_ were reacting when _you_ sang…" she let the sentence trail. "When you sing like _that_, you usually do it for me alone. Even Meg reacted."

Erik slid his mask off, "Look at me." She did as he asked. "Women may lust for CAM's voice, but they would loathe the rest of him." He then lay down beside her and rested his head on her chest, an arm sliding around her waist. "I made quite a blunder last night, didn't I?"

Christine absently ran her fingers through his hair, "Maybe it'll blow over?" she asked. "I mean… it's not like they know where you live. Just promise me you won't give any more surprise concerts."

"I promise," he replied.

The two lay in silence until the phone interrupted. Christine reached over and grabbed it from the night table. "Hello?" She answered, then waited for a reply. She grew quiet, then finally responded. "I'm sorry, you have the wrong number." She quickly hung the phone up.

Erik raised his head and looked at her questioningly.

"It was KROC Radio. They wanted an interview with CAM. They must have found our number in the phone book."

Erik frowned, "Of course. The foolish boy had to tell them your name."

"It's not Oren's fault. He didn't know."

Erik pushed himself up, his voice growing angry. "Why are you defending him?"

"Erik, don't!" She grasped his arms, preventing him from moving away. "Please?"

Erik closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then lay back down and pressed his face against her neck. _Forgive me, Christine. But I do not think I will ever be able to control my jealousy…_

* * *

**66 Laramie Dr.**

_You have something that belongs to me. _

Oren shot up in bed, eyes wide. "Who's there?"

_The little voice haunting your little brain…_

Oren shook his head, trying to get rid of the voice that was invading his senses. "What do you want?"

There was silence, followed by a cold laugh that froze the blood in Oren's veins.

_I want my body back, you moronic fool!_

**End of Episode 4**


	5. Episode 5

**_A/N: Thanks to my beta, Olethros._**

* * *

**Erik: the Vampire Hunter - The Continuing Adventures **

Episode 5

By: Elektra

**Daaé-Garner Residence **

"_Giant sewer snake eats dog…_" Christine read the headline of the tabloid in Erik's lap as she sat beside him on the couch. "I've heard of alligators and crocodiles in the sewers, but a giant snake?"

"With more than one head, apparently," he muttered.

Christine shook her head. "What will they think of next?"

"Well, I rather like this one…" Erik flipped to the next page, "_Recording artist CAM goes into hiding_," he shrugged, "Last I checked, I never came OUT of hiding."

"Yeah you did. Remember last week?"

"That should not have counted."

"Well, it did." Christine frowned, "And the phone hasn't stopped ringing." She leaned back, "We need to change our phone number, Erik."

"At least no one has attempted to show up at the house,"

"That might have something to do with the spikes you set down on the driveway, and that creepy recording you made scaring any sane person away," she replied. "You've pretty much assured us that we'll never have any guests either,"

Erik shrugged, "I can retract the spikes when you take the car to work and back, what makes you think I cannot retract them when we have company?" He shrugged, "Well, provided they call us first."

"Speaking of work, I have to go."

Erik frowned, "To sing with Oren again?"

"Erik… we are performing together. What else am I supposed to do? You were so hesitant about doing it, and he's got talent…" she sighed and threw her hands up. "Never mind. I don't have time to go over this with you. I'm going to be late."

Christine stood up and headed out the door.

* * *

**Populaire – after the performance**

Oren was taking the last bit of makeup off his face when he heard the voice in his head again. He did not know to whom the voice belonged, yet he could not help but heed it when it spoke.

_Your love is in trouble…_

"My love?" Oren asked.

_Yes, you know of whom I speak. Your sweet nymph…_

Oren's eyes went wide. "Where is she? Please, I must go to her!"

There was a quiet chuckle before the answer came. Oren desperately rushed out of the dressing rooms, intent on saving his beloved.

"Please, Eurydice…" he begged softly, "Please wait for me…"

* * *

**Populaire showers**

Christine sighed blissfully as she closed her eyes and let the warm water pour down on her. How she loved little private moments like this.

The peaceful moment was disturbed when the shower door suddenly flew open, causing Christine to scream and grab her towel to cover what she could. "Ms. Christine…you… you are OKAY!" Oren gasped breathlessly, standing before her as the water rained down on his black and gold hair, soaking his clothing straight through.

"Of COURSE I'm okay. GET OUT!" she screamed.

"I… forgive me… I thought… someone told me you were in trouble…" Oren tried to turn away, but found he could not take his eyes from the woman before him. He took a step forward as if wanting to touch her, but Christine backed against the tiles, her grip firm on the small towel, which did not cover as much as she hoped.

Oren stopped, realizing he was doing more harm than good. "I… I am so sorry."

"Not as sorry as you're GOING to be!" A voice growled as strong bony fingers dug into Oren's shoulders, pulling him out of the shower and shoving him against the wall.

Oren looked up to see two yellow eyes glaring from beneath a black mask, a pale jaw clenched tightly. "Mr. Erik?" he gasped.

A hand came up around Oren's neck, squeezing tightly, "What the HELL were you doing to my fiancée?"

"I… I thought she was in trouble!" Oren protested. "I… did not know… I was only trying to-"

With an almost animalistic roar, Erik threw Oren halfway across the room, the younger man landing hard on the ground.

"Erik!" Christine cried out. "Stop!"

Erik did not heed her, "Are there not enough women groveling at your feet?" he hissed at Oren, "Must you go after MINE?"

Before Erik's fist could fly towards Oren's handsome face, he felt two little hands grasp his arm. "DON'T! Please!"

He froze and turned his head to Christine, "He violated your privacy!"

"I don't think he _meant_ to," Christine, now wrapped in a robe, tried to explain. "He … he looked just as confused as _I_ was." She glanced over at Oren, who was looking rather pathetic, soaking-wet and cowering from an angry Erik.

"I am so very sorry, Ms. Christine," Oren offered meekly. "I truly did not wish you any harm."

"DON'T talk to her!" Erik snapped.

"Erik! Calm down," Christine commanded as she pushed past him and reached a hand out to Oren. He seemed hesitant to take it, his eyes glancing nervously at the frightening figure hovering beside her. "It's okay. Get up and dry off."

He took Christine's hand like a frightened child and she assisted him to his feet. "I … I really am sorry…"

"No worries," she replied with a smile.

Sensing Erik moving behind her, Christine quickly stepped in front of him, pressing her back against his chest to prevent him from getting any closer to the young man in front of her. "You should go grab yourself some towels,"

Oren nodded, then glanced back at Erik nervously. "But…"

"Erik is a bit protective," she explained quickly, "He understands it was just a mistake though," she tilted her head back to look up at him, "Right?"

Erik narrowed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her from behind. His grip was a little too tight for Christine's comfort, but she let it pass.

"Yes… well…" Oren suddenly held a hand out, "It was nice to meet you, Mr. Erik,"

Christine could have sworn she heard a growl escape her fiancé's throat as he simply glared at Oren's innocent offering.

"Uh…well… I… I am very sorry for this misunderstanding. I… I meant no harm. Have a good day, Ms. Christine," he offered a small nod to Christine and quickly left.

"Bastard," Erik hissed.

Christine craned her neck to look up to him, "The man made a mistake, Erik. He's not a pervert."

"The man snuck into your shower!" He snapped.

Christine turned in his arms to face him, a small smile on her lips. "_You've_ snuck into my shower on occasion."

Erik angrily pushed himself away from her, "That is _different_!" He then narrowed his eyes, "Unless you wished to do with _him_ what you do with _me_!"

Christine frowned, not liking his insinuation, "Don't you even go there!"

"Well why not, Christine?" Erik asked snidely, "He is far more appealing to a 22-year-old woman than a living corpse ten years her senior, no?"

"Erik…"

"And his sings so 'oh so wonderfully' too. A voice to make a woman swoon." He continued.

"Stop it!"

"Am I _lying_? Are you not attracted to him? Every other female here seems to be! How are you any different?"

Christine did not appreciate what he was accusing her of, "Jealousy is making you ugly, Erik!"

Erik let out a cold harsh laugh, "Oh sweet angel, I do not need _jealousy_ to make ME ugly! It is all very natural!" He yanked off his mask and tossed it to the floor, his voice growing low and dangerous, "Tell me, Christine – when I love your body, do you wish I had another face?"

Christine's hand flew out, connecting soundly with a skeletal cheek. "Don't even think of coming to bed tonight!" she quickly ran out of the room.

"CHRISTINE!" Erik shouted out. With an inhuman roar, he spun around angrily, his gloved fist shooting out to shatter the mirror on the wall.

"Oh my. What happened here, Mr. Ghost?" a voice spoke up behind him.

Erik grabbed a large sharp mirror shard and turned to the intruder, holding the point at his throat.

Loki's eyes went wide and he leapt a few feet back, putting a hand to his neck protectively as he looked up at Erik's unmasked face, "You ARE Death!"

Erik looked at his hideous reflection in the mirror shard he still held.

Christine was right – jealousy had indeed made him one ugly monster.

* * *

**Sewers - later**

Erik leaned back against the slimy tunnel walls and caught his breath, the anger still burning within him. He had found his way to the sewers without anyone noticing, leaving Loki far behind to muse upon what had happened to put the Opera Ghost in such a state.

It was then Erik realized he had left his mask on the floor of the shower room.

Funny how it didn't seem to matter at the moment.

_Don't even think of coming to bed tonight! _

Christine's words came back like the literal slap in the face she had given him before running out. She had been so angry with his reaction, so angry that he took his own insecurities out on a foolish boy who really knew no better. This was the first time Christine had asked to sleep alone since they had moved in together.

Erik never realized how much it would hurt.

He wondered if Christine felt this lonely on nights when he shut himself away in the basement to work obsessively on a new building design or musical composition. Did she long for him to hold her those nights he wasn't there, just as he knew he would long to hold _her_ tonight?

"Oh, Christine…" he whispered quietly to the chilly tunnels. "Forgive your jealous Erik?"

A low growl answered him in response.

Erik quickly pushed away from the wall, looking around for the source of the strange sound. He heard a splash to the left, and his extraordinary eyes focused on a shape slowly rising out of the murky water.

It was serpentine in body, but far bigger than a normal snake. At least ten feet high… or rather, its HEADS were. _Nine_ of them, on long scaly necks, with eyes that could freeze the blood in any normal man's veins.

Luckily Erik wasn't a normal man.

Before Erik could take the offensive, the creature suddenly wound its tail around one of Erik's feet, clinging to him as the heads attempted to bite his flesh. In his left hand, Erik still held the mirror shard he had torn from the wall. He allowed his anger to work for him and violently cut the heads coming at him. He imagined each head was Oren's. The image of the boy beside Christine in the shower as she desperately tried to cover up would not leave him alone.

As he continued to hack, he started to notice two more heads grew in place of each one he cut off.

He hacked at those as well, only to find more of the same.

He pulled away and tried to regain his bearings. No, he couldn't let his anger get the best of him right now. He needed to think. However, considering there were over two-dozen angry snake heads hissing at him, it was not as easy as one would believe.

He had seen something like this before… but where?

Erik suddenly recalled seeing pictures of this creature in various mythology books.

_The_ _Hydra! _He realized. Eight of its heads were _mortal_, and one _immortal_.

Erik reached into his duster to grab a stake, then reached into his trousers to grab the lighter he often kept when he composed by candlelight. He quickly set the wood ablaze and burned the stumps of the heads he cut before they could grow back. He knew, however, the stake would not last long.

It did not need to now, though. One head was left.

Dropping the burning wood into the sewage water, Erik whipped out his rope and wrapped it tight, snapping the creature's neck with one hard yank.

It collapsed before him, unmoving.

Erik stumbled back, catching his breath before he fumbled for his phone and quickly dialed the first number on his list. "Antoinette?" he asked when he heard the familiar voice pick up, "You may want to send the Guild's cleaning crew down into the sewers beneath Hartford and Maine." He flipped the phone shut and glanced back at the dead thing at his feet.

Well, at least this creature had been good for one thing – allowing Erik an outlet for his anger.

Somewhat.

* * *

**Daaé-Garner Residence - later**

Christine opened her eyes to see a bouquet of a dozen red roses on her night table. She blinked slowly and stared at the present. "Erik?"

She felt the bed depress behind her, realizing Erik was sitting down. He hadn't slept beside her, she was sure of that, but how long had he been standing there?

"There was a reason for my anger. Though whether my explanation will be to your satisfaction, I do not know,"

Christine closed her eyes and let out a soft breath, "Go ahead. If I like your explanation, I'll decide whether I'll let you back in."

"I am selfish." He answered.

Christine let out a harsh laugh, "Selfish. Jealous. Bad-tempered…"

"Please, let me finish."

"Fine. Go on."

"The point is - I want your body to be for MY eyes only. No one else's. Not even accidentally." She felt him slide a little closer, "He desires you, Christine, and I am not being paranoid. I saw it in his eyes. As much as you insist otherwise, you are an incredibly attractive woman."

Christine opened her mouth to protest, but Erik continued, "Oren may be a _foolish_ man, but a man he still is. He probably didn't even realize how obvious he was being." Erik was quiet for a moment, then spoke again. "I will never understand how you could want me the way you do, thus I grow jealous when another man – a _handsome_ man – takes an interest in you."

She sat up and turned to face him, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "I can't keep reassuring you that I love you more than I already have. It's exhausting." She took a deep breath and leaned back, "You've put me up on a pedestal that's beyond my reach, that you thought was beyond YOUR reach. But I can't live up to that, Erik. I'm only human. I have basic instincts, just like everyone else."

She raised her head to meet his eyes, "And I have a secret. Something even_ Meggy _thinks is weird and crazy… but …" she traced his harsh features with gentle fingers, "I don't _want_ a handsome man. I _want_ this horrible face," She slid her hand beneath his shirt, trailing her fingers over the raised skin on his back, "I _want_ this pale scarred body."

"Christine…"

"Physically. Emotionally. Always. What other people find unsettling about you, _I_ find appealing." She leaned back again, keeping her eyes on him, "Maybe I just needed to tell you that straight out."

He brushed a golden ringlet from her lovely face, "Beloved... " he stopped, at a loss for words.

Christine lay back down and stared at the ceiling. "Call yourself a _freak_ all you want, Erik. Just know that you're _my_ freak, and I like you that way." She glanced over at him again and offered a small smile, "Heck, if you were _normal_ I probably wouldn't be attracted to you anymore."

Erik tried not to show his surprise, "Perhaps I should cancel that appointment with the plastic surgeon then…"

"You're kidding, right?" Christine asked worriedly. He said nothing. "Erik! You didn't really make an appointment-"

"No." He answered, "To be honest, when I was a child, Madeline tried to get a few of her customers – plastic surgeons – to see what they could do. Apparently I didn't have enough to work with." Erik lay down beside her, "But if you're _attracted_ to this corpse of a face, then I will never change it."

He was silent a moment, then spoke again. "May I come back to bed now?"

"I suppose…"

* * *

**66 Laramie Dr.**

_So you did not save your Eurydice after all…_

"She was not in trouble," Oren replied. "I invaded her privacy."

_It is her lover keeping her from you. _

"He seems rather… protective of her,"

_Perhaps you should get him away from her._

"How could I do that?"

_A well-aimed gun always works. He is a difficult man to convince to do what he does not want to do._

Oren grew angry. "I would never take a life! I am not that kind of man!"

_You are not a man at all, are you… Orpheus? Last time I checked, Ancient Greece was **ancient** for a reason. _

"You do not know what you are talking about!" Oren protested. "I… I am just a normal person."

There was a cold laugh following this. _You must be kidding me! Do you wonder why you hear me so well, Oren? I am INSIDE you, fool! I am seeing everything through your eyes. I am seeing everything in your head. Your past, your present. EVERYTHING! _

"No…" Oren cried out, "Go away! Leave me alone!"

"Oren?" Martine knocked on Oren's door. "Are you ok?"

Oren quickly opened the door, "In my head! He's there! He says he wants his body back!"

The voice continued to laugh, and Oren bolted out of the room and down the hall as if he could leave it behind, but the voice had no intention of giving him peace.

**End of Episode 5**


	6. Episode 6

**_ A/N: Thanks to my beta, Olethros. _**

* * *

**Erik: the Vampire Hunter - The Continuing Adventures  **

Episode 6 

By: Elektra 

**Giry-Firmin Residence **

"A Hydra now?" Antoinette Giry asked as Erik reported his latest battle. She sat back in her chair with a sigh, "Any idea as to what awakened these creatures? Other than 'a voice'?" 

Erik shrugged, "I do not suppose Loki would give us any more information. He is having far too much fun making my life difficult." 

"Perhaps Nadir would be able to figure it out," Giry replied. "You should talk to him." 

Erik seemed hesitant, but realized he would have to put aside his personal issues with his new _stepfather_ in order to find out what was going on. 

Erik stood up and went to the door. He grabbed the knob, then stopped. "Antoinette…?" 

Erik's voice suddenly sounded quite serious. Giry looked up from the couch. "Yes?" 

"When one is… _in a relationship_… is it supposed to be … _difficult_?" 

Giry raised an eyebrow. Was Erik asking her advice about his personal life? "It happens, yes. Love is not easy." She regarded him carefully. "Have there been problems?" 

"Of course not," he said quickly, then paused a moment, "Though I do think the new tenor at the opera has a more-than-professional interest in my fiancée!" He began to seethe, "The way he looks at her… the way he sings to her on stage… the way _Romeo_ kisses _Juliet_…" 

"Erik! My door!" 

Erik looked down to see the doorknob in his hand now had indentations from his fingers. He let go, "I will pay for a new one. I forget my strength at times." 

"I never would have guessed," Giry muttered. "But really, Erik, if you think Mr. Pheryeus is pushing his boundries with Christine, then perhaps you should speak to him. _Speak_ being the operative word here. Not _beat him within an inch of his life_, you understand?" 

"Yes. Of course, Antoinette." He looked back at the doorknob, "Let me know how much this costs and I will cover it. Good day." 

With a polite nod of his head towards Giry, Erik headed out.

* * *

**The Populaire**

"Ms. Christine…" 

Christine turned around to see Oren chasing after her. "Hey there," she replied as she went to sit down in a nearby makeup chair. 

"I understand things with you and Mr. Erik are a little tense right now," Oren began as he grabbed another chair and joined her. He took her hand in his, "If you ever need someone to talk to, I am here. I truly did not mean to intrude on you last week…" 

"Things are fine, Oren. No worries." 

"Of course," Oren replied, then glanced away and dropped her hand. "Mr. Erik has quite a temper, doesn't he?" 

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I hope he didn't hurt you." 

Oren looked back at her, "It was _you_ I was concerned for. I heard him yelling quite loudly after I left." 

"We talked afterwards. It's okay." Christine offered a small smile, "Sometimes his temper gets the best of him," 

"How is it that you feel safe with him then?" 

Christine looked at Oren, "How could I not?" 

"Well… I thought… perhaps…" 

"Perhaps nothing. When Erik gets in his moods, I can handle him." 

Christine started at the truth in her words. She hadn't thought about it before, but the Guild's most dangerous hunter and former executioner melted in her hands. The man once thought to be cold as ice could be brought to his knees with her kiss, her touch… or more. 

It sent a rush of excitement through her. 

"Ms. Christine?" 

Christine brought her attention back to Oren, cheeks flushed slightly. "Yeah, sorry. Zoned out for a sec." She patted his knee, "don't worry about me and Erik. We're good." 

"Very well," Oren stood up, "But I am here, if you ever need me." 

"Thanks." She replied. 

With a polite nod, Oren headed off to the dressing rooms. Christine slumped back in her chair, closing her eyes as she waited for the makeup lady to come and pretty her up for the night's performance. 

"My client is rather fond of you, Ms. Daaé," 

Christine shot up in her seat, her eyes falling upon a man of average height with red hair and light blue eyes. 

The man held out a hand, "Lowell Key. I am Oren's manager." 

Christine frowned, "You're no manager. And poor Oren is too naïve to see through your tricks." 

Lowell seem startled, "Pardon me, Ms. Daaé. But I don't understand what you're getting at." 

"Are _you_ the one who sent Oren into my shower, Loki?" 

Lowell suddenly shifted, literally. His hair growing longer and brighter, his eyes shimmering silver. "How did you know who I was?" 

"Erik told me." 

"Ah, the Opera Ghost! So I was right then? The two of you are close?" 

"You've been hanging around here for a while now. Don't tell me you haven't figured it out," Christine answered. 

Loki took Oren's abandoned seat and made himself comfortable. "Hmm, I had my suspicions, but your lover avoided giving me a direct answer." 

"My fiancé doesn't like to talk about his private life. He doesn't want me involved in the weird stuff he gets involved with," she glanced at him, "Stuff like Norse tricksters waking from a long sleep." 

He sat back in the chair. "Ah, yes. That was … _weird_ did you say? Meaning – peculiar? Strange?" Christine nodded. "_Weird_ indeed then," he continued. "I truly do not know HOW I woke. Only that a voice did the waking." He glanced off in the direction Oren had left , "Though I do have a suspicion whose voice it may have been." 

"I don't suppose you want to share?" 

Loki let out a soft laugh, "I like you, Ms. Daaé. Straightforward with questions, honest with answers. And not threatening to kill me." 

"I thought gods couldn't be killed." 

"We can't. Not really. But we can certainly suffer bodily harm. However, since you offer no threat of that," he leaned forward and met her eyes, "I will tell you that Oren Pheryus is not who he says he is." 

"What do you mean?" she asked. 

"Read up on Greek mythology. You will find his identity." 

"Can't you just tell me?" 

"Oh now, that would be no fun! You will start to feel inferior because you could not figure it out on your own, then you will get all depressed and weepy like women do. I do not want that on my conscience." 

Christine leaned forward, elbows on her knees, "Fine. I'll look it up." She studied him a moment, "Tell me the truth. ARE you the one who sent Oren into my shower?" 

"No. And I do not know WHO did." He smirked, "Though I cannot blame him for his interest. You are a lovely woman, after all." He then glanced around nervously, "Of course, do not tell your lover I said that." 

"Only if you promise to stop flirting with me, because honestly – I find you really creepy." 

Loki smiled, "Yes. You are honest indeed. Perhaps TOO honest." He stood up, "I make no promises, Ms. Daaé. Not even to my Lord Odin. But I _will_ take my leave of you lest the Ghost find me here." 

Christine got to her feet and held a hand out. 

He seemed surprised at the gesture, but took her hand and shook it, tugging her a little closer, "Perhaps we could be friends?" he asked slyly. 

Christine raised an eyebrow, "I don't trust you any farther than I could throw you." 

He let out a laugh and let go of her hand, "Smart little mortal girl. At least you are far more pleasant company than your beloved corpse." 

Before Christine could respond to that, Loki disappeared into thin air.

* * *

**Khan Residence**

"Erik!" Madeline smiled as she opened the door to see her son standing before her. "This is a pleasant surprise." 

"Is Nadir here?" Erik asked shortly. 

"He went to the store. He should be back soon…" Madeline replied. "Have a seat." She gestured towards the couch. Erik sat down silently. Madeline studied him a moment, then spoke again. "Would you like some tea?" she asked. 

He simply nodded in response. Madeline quickly set about bringing him a cup of lemon tea with honey. He took it as she sat down beside him. "We haven't talked in a while." 

"I have had nothing to talk about," he replied. 

"What about CAM?" she asked. 

Erik glanced at her, then looked back at his tea, "Of course you would have heard about that." He sighed. "I imagine it has been all over the place." 

"How is Christine dealing with it? She can't be too happy people are prying." 

"No, she's not. But there is nothing to be done for it." He shrugged, "It was poor judgement on my part." 

Madeline watched the masked man sip his tea beside her. Even as the two spoke, Erik's coldness was clear. It didn't matter that she had told her son she loved him. It had been twenty years too late. 

"Erik?" a voice spoke as the front door opened. 

Erik stood up, "Nadir. We have guild business to discuss." 

"It's good to see you too," Nadir muttered as he shut the door behind him. "I imagine this has to do with the strange awakenings you've been dealing with?" Erik nodded. 

Madeline politely excused herself from the room and let the two hunters deal with what was needed. 

Erik handed the Guild detective a notebook. Nadir quickly glanced through it. "Siren, Loki, Hydra…" He looked back at Erik, "So it's not just related to _Greek_ mythology." 

"So far Greek and Norse. I am concerned as to what else." 

Nadir agreed, "We need to find the source." 

Erik cell phone suddenly went off. He quickly answered. "Yes, Christine?" He acknowledged the voice on the phone. "You what? Spoke to Loki? Stay away from him!" 

He was silent as Christine continued to talk, "He told you this?" His voice lowered to a growl, "And Oren is involved? I told you he was not to be trusted! I told you-" 

Erik paused as Christine interrupted his rant. "Very well. I will look in my books for information. But I want you to stay away from Oren!" His eyes grew wide, "What do you mean 'no'? I do not CARE if you have to perform with him!" 

Nadir suddenly grabbed the phone from Erik as the former executioner grew increasingly irate, "Christine, dear? Nadir here. What were you telling Erik about your co-worker?" He waited for the information. "Ahh, Loki told you this? He seems rather forthcoming with you." 

Nadir let out a soft laugh, "Yes, the fact that you did not attack him probably DID have a lot to do with it. Very well, if you can keep dialogue open with him, he might prove rather useful to us. Thank you for this, dear. Break a leg now. Good bye." 

Nadir flipped the phone closed and handed it back to Erik, "Angering your fiancée and telling her you do not want her doing what she was _born_ to do is not the way to keep her heart, Erik." 

Erik frowned and grabbed his phone back, "I do not like her _Romeo_." 

"That may be, but you cannot demand Christine's absence from performing unless you wish for her resentment. You, of all people, should know that she lives and breathes the stage," 

"I know, Nadir. Believe me, I know." Erik turned from Nadir and slid the mask from his face, massaging his temples. "If only I could be up there with her instead. If only…" he stared at the mask in his hands and shook his head, "But I will never look _human_ enough." 

"Erik..." 

"No matter," he continued as he quickly raked his long ebony locks back with his fingers and replaced the mask upon his face. "There are other things that are of more immediate concern." He turned back to Nadir, "The Populaire's new tenor is not who he seems, or so Christine says Loki told her." 

Nadir nodded, knowing better than to revisit Erik's comments from a moment ago, "She said Loki mentioned Greek mythlogy. Now give me some traits you have noticed about this _Oren_, and we will see what god or other creature may have similar traits." 

Erik nodded ripped a piece of paper from his notebook, his left hand moving furiously as he wrote out his observations.

* * *

**Populaire parking lot – after the performance**

Christine was in the parking lot heading to the car when a woman suddenly joined her side, "Ms. Daaé? Christine Daaé?" 

"Yes?" 

"I truly would appreciate it if you would stay away from my husband!" the woman snapped angrily. 

Christine furrowed her brow, "What's this now?" 

"CAM. He is MINE. We've been together for _years_ now, and he's the father of my child." 

Christine studied the woman before her. She was tall, far too inflated up top, and her golden hair had come out of a bottle – though Christine could not hold that against her, considering _hers_ did as well. 

"CAM isn't your husband." Christine outright dismissed the woman's claims."And there's no way your kid is his, if you even have one." She added, knowing very well that Erik was not able to have children. 

"Did he tell you he was single when he picked you up at whatever bar you found him?" 

Christine laughed, "At a bar? Is that where you think we met? Lady, you have NO idea, do you?" 

"With his good looks, charm, and that voice, he could get _any_ woman into his bed." CAM's _wife_ insisted. 

Now Christine felt tears from laughing so hard. _Good looks_? _Charm_? Erik had neither. 

The woman was not impressed with the response she was getting, "And considering his skill in bed, it's not difficult to make a girl feel like she's the ONLY one!" 

Christine's stomach began to hurt from her laughter. Apparently CAM's so-called _skills_ had taken their dear sweet time kicking in, for it had been a few weeks before he truly figured out what her body had needed. 

Of course, he had figured it out very _well_… and had even improved upon it since. 

"I don't understand why you would find all this so humorous!" The woman snapped angrily. "I am telling you the man you're engaged to is MY husband." 

"Okay, okay…" Christine stopped to catch her breath, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Fine. What does he look like then? The only time he's been out in public, he was wearing a mask – so you and I are the only ones who know what lay beneath it." 

"I told you he was good looking." 

"Right. Good looking. Male model material." Christine rolled her eyes. 

"You think I'm lying?" the woman frowned. 

"Lady, I know every inch of him." Christine stared at the woman pointedly, "And I mean _every_ inch. You have NO idea what he looks like and NO idea why he wears that mask. Heck, you probably don't even know where he got his stage name from!" 

"Short for Cameron!" She answered quickly. 

"Except the radio revealed his real name was _Erik_. CAM is an acronym. If you're his _wife_, you should know that." 

"Cameron is his middle name," the woman answered snidely. 

"I think I'm losing brain cells talking to you. Excuse me." Christine pushed past the woman and made her way to the car. There was only so much _stupid_ she could take for one night.

* * *

**Daaé-Garner Residence - later**

Christine entered the house and kicked her shoes off at the door, tossing her bag on the table beside the entrance. She glanced around the living room, but didn't see any sign of Erik. 

With a sigh, she climbed up the stairs and entered the bedroom. 

An unmoving figure lay flat out on the bed, white mask hiding his poor face, bared torso reflecting the glow of a nearby lamp, bringing out the blue-black lines beneath the surface of his alabaster skin. 

It was far too tempting to pass up. 

Christine crawled on the bed and pushed away the opened mythology book that lay beside him, noting a name highlighted – _Orpheus_. She would ask him about that later. 

"Hello, beautiful…" she whispered as she slid atop him. Once she was comfortable on her human matress, she closed her eyes and let out a content sigh. 

"Shame on you, angel…" a silky voice breathed against her ear, "Using my body for your own personal needs," 

"It isn't the first time," Christine muttered sleepily. "Your body is nice to use." 

Erik slid his arms up around her waist, "I am glad you find it so." 

She chuckled quietly, then let out a soft breath, "I met CAM's _wife_ as I was heading through the parking lot tonight." 

Erik swore under his breath. "This is getting rather tedious. This is… what… the _third_ woman this week claiming to have intimate relations with CAM?" 

"Fourth. But Firmin and André love the attention," she replied as she kept her head upon his shoulder. "Now that CAM's been outed, and his fiancée place of work has been advertised, they're getting bigger crowds, and more reporters. Heck, they even said you… or rather… CAM… comes in to help the opera on occasion. Apparently, I have a list of people wanting to interview me as well." 

"I do not wish for you to be famous because of THAT," he replied. "You have your own skills and talents. That is what the interviewers should be focusing on," 

"Opera isn't exactly mainstream," she replied. "CAM _is._" 

"That is no excuse. You have worked hard to be where you are," he let out a frustrated breath. "I only wish I had forseen all this, but I was not exactly in my right mind when CAM began." He paused a moment, then spoke again, "Yet, with my reprehensible ego, I could not help but continue, and in my blind jealousy I could not help but show myself." 

"It's ok," she answered, her fingers absently trailing over his ribs, "I wouldn't want the world to be denied your talent, Erik, even if this is the result." 

Erik did not know what to say to that as he gently played with the soft golden curls splayed out over his chest, "I love you." 

"I love you too." She replied, "I just wish I didn't feel like people were watching us all the time now." 

"Is that what concerns you?" he asked. She nodded. "That explains much then," 

"How so?" she asked. 

"It has been some time since we -" he stopped. 

Christine raised her head and met his eyes, "Erik?" 

His voice grew low, "Christine - you have no idea how very difficult it has been to feel you curled up beside me every night and _not_ have my shameful way with you." 

"Oh!" she gasped. "Erik, I hadn't even realized…" 

"I thought you were still angry," he interrupted gently. "There are usually at least two nights a week where you make it clear you do not wish to … _sleep_. But yet, since the incident at the club, you have chosen ONLY to sleep. That was three weeks ago." 

Christine brushed her lips against his cotton-covered cheek, "Poor Erik. It has nothing to do with you. It has to do with _them_." She slid off him and glanced over at the window. "I've seen them hiding out there, and I'm not into voyeurism." 

She shook her head, "It's amazing they haven't gotten close enough to catch you without your mask yet." She shrugged, "Then again, you've been wearing it a lot lately. Even when we're supposed to be alone." 

"I have taken to sneaking into my own home through the sewer tunnels because I know they lurk around outside. And considering that some lenses can see right into a man's window, I have not felt comfortable taking this off," he said, brushing a hand over the white material covering his face. 

"But…" Erik suddenly pushed himself off the bed and shut the blinds and drapes, then turned off the lights, sending the room into darkness. "I am growing rather desperate for your attention." 

"Erik, I can't see." 

"Neither will they." 

Christine felt him gently grasp her wrist, her right hand being raised to graze against the mask on his face. Christine curled her fingers beneath the edge and pulled it off. 

"But I _want_ to see you," she pouted. 

"_Feel_ me instead…" he replied, allowing her little hands to travel over his horrid features before grasping her chin and bringing his mouth down upon hers. 

An arm came around her back, another beneath her legs as she felt herself lifted, then lowered down onto the bed. "I can hear your heart pounding," he whispered in her ear as he moved himself over her. 

"Erik…" she gasped as she felt strong fingers grasp the hem of her shirt, tugging it up over her head and tossing it away. 

"They won't see…" he reassured her as he slid his mouth over her pulse. Those same fingers then glided beneath her, deftly unclasping and removing the lace and wire that kept her from his travelling kisses – kisses which left no part of her body untouched as his wandering hands made quick work of the rest of their clothing. 

Christine was quite beyond coherent thought at the moment, quite sure that while their unwanted visitors may not be able to _see _them, they could no doubt _hear_ them. 

And quite certain she really didn't care. 

**End of Episode 6**


	7. Episode 7

_**A/N: Thanks to my beta, Olethros. **_

* * *

**Erik: the Vampire Hunter - The Continuing Adventures **

**Episode 7**

By: Elektra

The sound of many-legged insects echoed throughout the Populaire's corridors. Their master, currently a humanoid-shaped biped, guided his charges without hesitation. They knew to follow him, and only him.

This is where it was. This was where the source of power lay – the thing that had woken them all from sleep. The source was not here right now, but it would be back.

He would just have to wait until then to do what needed to be done.

* * *

**Elsewhere**

Mikey Hall laughed as his friends dragged the fourteen-year-old boy through his father's funeral parlor and yanked the black mask off the skeletal face, "This is the perfect place for him - with the other corpses!"

Mikey led the group into the chapel and went up to the coffin lying on the dais then flipped open the lid and gagged, "Ugh, no wonder it's a closed casket. The gal's missing half her face." He glanced towards his captive, "Still looks better than the freak. Toss him in. The service is gonna start in a few hours."

The restrained boy struggled to get free, but Mikey had brought four reinforcements to prevent that from happening.

"When you think of it, this is the closest to a woman you're gonna get," Mikey indicated the body.

"Like it matters. Freak hasn't even hit puberty yet!" One of Mikey's accomplices said. "You've seen him in the changeroom. Everyone else's got the hair but him. I doubt he's capable of doin' it!"

"It would be gross if he got turned on by a corpse anyway," another accomplice spoke.

"Ugh… don't even go there!" Mikey protested. "Bad enough he LOOKS like one!"

Young Erik Garner soon found himself face down on top of the dead thing in the casket, the lid coming down hard and leaving him in claustrophobic darkness with a female corpse.

Erik tried to push the lid open with his back, but a click of a lock prevented it. He listened carefully to the sound of retreating footsteps.

The body beneath him was cold and unmoving, and it smelled strange. There was no air. He couldn't breathe. The walls of the casket were closing in.

Erik began to hyperventilate, his stomach heaving what little lunch he had had, which only added to the smell.

Erik could have sworn the woman was mocking him with her closed eyes and shredded face. Was she laughing too? Did she think this skinny gangly living corpse was where he belonged?

He began to bang desperately against the lid, hoping to budge it just a little, but only succeeded in exhausting himself.

Was it getting warm in here? No. The body was still so very cold.

Dizzy. He was so dizzy.

"Let me out…" he whispered softly. "Please let me out…"

There was no one to hear him. He collapsed atop the dead thing and cried himself to sleep.

* * *

Erik's eyes shot open. 

There was a female body resting against his own.

Something was different this time, however - the body was no longer cold and lifeless. It was warm and soft. Beautiful and breathing. And it smelled like apples.

Erik brushed a golden curl off his companion's forehead, looking upon the face resting against his chest – an angelic face, flushed and full of life.

He closed his eyes and took several slow, deep breaths.

At least something _good_ had come out of being locked in a casket with a corpse – it had cured his claustrophobia permanently. The fact that it had also completely and utterly desensitized him to death did not matter.

How long had it taken to claw his way through the satin lining of the coffin and kick out the lid? Too long. He had felt the casket lowering to the ground, had heard the plunk of fresh dirt falling atop the lid.

Amazing how one could find inhuman reserves of strength when the alternative was being buried alive.

Erik's dark memories were interrupted as soft curves and slender limbs arched against his body.

"Christine?"

"Hmmm?" Christine Daaé's lovely blue eyes fluttered opened, "Erik? Did I wake you?"

Erik felt his reprehensible body involuntarily respond to the girl, "If you continue moving like that, you will wake something else…"

He could see her cheeks flushing in the darkness. "Erik! I was just trying to get comfy,"

"You feel far too good to be getting 'comfy'," he said as he slid a hand up a willowy thigh, brushing over the skimpy boyshorts that barely covered her.

"What is it?" Christine asked, concerned with the tension she could feel in his body.

"Sweet Christine…" he began as one bony finger slipped beneath her thin shoulder strap. "Your Erik just dreamt about something unpleasant from his childhood. He was only grateful to wake up and find YOU." He slowly slid the strap down and brushed his lips over her revealed shoulder, "I'm in shameful need of human contact at the moment."

Christine gently tangled her fingers into his hair, "Then you're lucky the theatre is dark tomorrow."

* * *

**Populaire – Three days later**

He slunk through the rotting corridors and infested dorms of the Populaire. This part of the building had not been used in years and had fallen into horrible disrepair.

Through the walls, he could hear the shuffling of rats and the squirming of insects. His multi-legged family members made their homes here. However, as he closed his eyes and his mind searched out the bipeds that wandered freely above, he knew not all of them appreciated these creatures.

He sensed one in particular. Female. She had a fear of his many-legged friends. A horrible, paralyzing fear.

Perhaps she only needed to meet them…

* * *

"Are you sure Oren is Orpheus?" Christine asked as she and Erik studied Oren from the catwalk. It was the only place they could have privacy to discuss and observe the man in question. "I mean… shouldn't he be dead?" 

"A lot of things should be dead that are not," Erik replied. "As the stories go, he was torn to death by Dionysus' female followers for not worshipping him as he once did."

"Talk about taking rejection badly," Christine muttered, brushing away the twitch she felt on her cheek. "Must have been a nasty way to die."

Erik nodded, "All that remained of him was his head. Considering the fact that he was here a few months ago with Martine, I will hazard to guess she had something to do with his resurrection."

"Well, it's not like she hasn't resurrected things in the past," Christine said, absently scratching at her bare arm. Why did her skin tingle suddenly? And why was the feeling steadily increasing?

Christine glanced down at her arms, and froze. One spider after another had begun to land on her, crawling on her clothing, under her shirt, in her hair.

She screamed and tried desperately to shake them off. Erik saw her plight and attempted to help the best he could. The little creatures would not be shaken off so easily though.

"Get them off. Off! Please! OFF!" she cried out.

Erik's eyes darted around, trying to figure out where they were coming from, but he saw no source. Christine's screaming grew hysterical, but the insects would not leave her alone.

Suddenly, the spiders disappeared, leaving Christine sobbing and hyperventilating.

Erik quickly gathered her up as her legs gave out on her, carrying her to a stair at the far end of the catwalk and allowing her to curl up in his lap as he sat down. "Shh, hush now…" he spoke softly, soothingly stroking her hair, "They're gone. All gone…" She clenched her fingers into his shirt, pressing her face against his neck.

Out of the corner of his eye, Erik saw a flash of red hair, "Loki! Did YOU do this to her?" he growled angrily.

"Hmpf!" Loki replied, insulted. "_I_ am the one who made them go away!" He studied Christine carefully, "Do you dislike spiders?" Christine responded by wrapping her arms around Erik's neck and curling herself tighter against him.

"I do not blame you," Loki continued, "Hideously _ugly_ things, they are. I imagine the very THOUGHT of something so _repulsive_ touching your body would make you retch." Though Christine didn't seem to notice, Loki's backhanded insult was obvious to Erik, earning Loki a low growl from the masked man.

"A shame," Loki said quickly, brushing away Erik's response. "I don't think you will like the latest visitor to the Populaire,"

"And who would that be?" Erik demanded as he soothingly stroked Christine's back.

"A fellow trickster named Anansi. He has an unnatural attachment to insects." Loki replied distastefully as he stomped on a leftover spider. "And he is invading my turf!"

Erik slid Christine off his lap and bolted towards Loki, grabbing him by the tunic and lifting the smaller man off the ground, "When did this become YOUR turf, you beak-nosed moronic miscreant?" he growled.

Loki offered an arrogant sniff, "At least I HAVE a nose…"

Erik let out an angry roar, tossing Loki away from him. "_I_ am the Opera Ghost! This is MY theatre!"

"Pardon my intrusion then, masked sir," a deep voice spoke from the shadows.

The three turned to see a figure dark as midnight and as tall as Erik step into the faint light that illuminated the catwalk. His eyes were solid black as he looked upon the group before him.

Christine paled as she saw the spiders surrounding his feet and quickly stumbled over to her fiancé. Erik wrapped his arms around her, as intent on keeping her upright as he was to offer comfort.

"You do not like my family members, young Miss?" the newest arrival asked. He let out a disappointed sigh, "Alas, I had hoped coming face to face with them would change your mind. I see it has only made you worse forwear,"

Loki stepped forward, a frown upon his face, "_I'm_ the theatre's resident trickster! _You_ have no place being here!"

Anansi raised a dark eyebrow as he studied the shorter creature, "I do not plan to stay, fool. I only wish to know who woke me."

Anansi waved his hand towards Loki, and the latter soon found himself surrounded by spiders, crawling over his legs and up his torso. "What is THIS for?" he demanded angrily.

"I do not like your looks," Anansi answered. He walked up to Erik, but respectfully prevented his so-called family members from getting close to Christine.

"Was it _you_ who woke me?" He asked of Erik. "You, who have been referred to as the Angel of Music? Yes, I have heard of such a tale."

He cocked his head to the left, brow furrowed, "But… you are not an angel at all, are you masked sir? You are closer to a _demon_." Anansi then glanced over at Christine, "_You_ are the angel."

"What? Oh no… I… I'm no angel," she replied nervously.

"Well, perhaps not _literally_, as you are only mortal. But I sense you are the opposite of the one in the mask."

"I do not think you would find disagreement with that assessment," Erik replied. "However, if you are looking for the one who woke you, my research has led me to believe it was a creature named Orpheus," he pointed down to the stage, "The boy with the gold and black hair."

Anansi leaned over the railing to see the ancient minstrel in question currently speaking to a few members of the corps de ballet on the stage below them, though they seemed more interested in his form fitting clothing than the words coming out of his mouth. "I suppose _he_ is the one I should thank then,"

"Thank?"

Anansi looked back at Christine, "He not only woke _me_ up, but my _wife_ as well. I have missed her." He then glanced back at Loki, "I was quite sure YOU had a wife too, Loki."

Loki frowned, distracted as he tried desperately to shake the spiders off his person. "Sigyn is around. Somewhere. Probably back in Asgard."

"That you would not wish to be with her is rather surprising," Anansi replied, disapproval clear in his voice.

Loki shrugged, "I'm having far too much fun here." He then turned to Erik and Christine, "Did you know those little ballerinas actually DO believe I am Oren's talent manager? They have offered me… _favours_… in return for my guidance."

"Ah, no wonder you wish him gone," Anansi said to Erik. "Hardly worthy of being awoken, if you ask me."

"No one asked you!" Loki snapped.

"I don't suppose you could take him with you?" Erik asked Anansi.

"If I could ease your burden, I would. But I think I would end up killing him after a short while." Anansi shrugged, "And I am sure you have heard what happens when gods start to kill other gods. It is not a good thing for mortals."

Saying nothing more, he leapt over the rail of the catwalk and floated gracefully onto the stage below, startling everyone around him.

"How did he do that?" Christine asked.

Erik reached over the railing and felt the invisible silky strings that led all the way down to the stage. "A web."

Christine shuddered at that, but said nothing as the two watched Anansi speak to Oren, making excited gestures with his hands as a large smile appeared on his face.

Neither of them bothered to pay attention to Loki, currently fuming as he continued to try and rid himself of Anansi's family members.

"I hope he is not revealing too much," Erik replied. "It would prove rather disturbing for our ballerinas. It is enough they fear _ghosts_."

"Hello? I'm still covered in spiders here!" came Loki's voice.

Christine glanced over at him, "You got rid of the ones on _me_. What's the problem?"

"Every time I get rid of them, they keep coming back," Loki muttered.

Erik scowled at Loki, then looked back at the politer trickster below. "I suppose you will just have to wait until our guest goes home then."

* * *

**66 Laramie Dr. – three days later**

Martine sat in her room, candles lit around her. She closed her eyes, and thought on what was happening with Oren as of late. Her waking of him had apparently woken others of his kind, and to top it all off, he claimed a voice in his head had been causing him high levels of distress.

Martine didn't know how it had happened, but she knew exactly whose voice Oren was hearing.

How could he come back? How could he enter his old body and make his presence so clear to the current occupant?

And how was she going to get rid of him?

She grabbed a nearby book and began to flip through it.

After several minutes, Martine finally found the spell that might free Oren of his unwanted guest. She began to read the incantation slowly and carefully, for she had never attempted such a thing before.

Still, Martine Robichaux was confident in her power and skills.

She repeated the words until the candles burnt down, then closed the book and stood up to stretch.

Now it was time to check on Oren.

She headed towards his room and knocked on the door gently, "Oren?"

"Yes?" came the answer.

"Are you well? I… I have not heard from you for a few hours."

"I am fine, Martine."

Martine furrowed her brow. It was the first time Oren had not used the term _Lady_. It was not that she cared either way, but respectfully prefixing everyone's name was something that was distinctly _him_.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes. I am just tired suddenly."

Martine took a deep breath, "Very well. If you need anything, I am down the hall."

"Thank you."

Martine nodded to the closed door and walked away, pretending not to notice that Oren's light lilting voice had suddenly grown deeper.

**End of Episode 7**


	8. Episode 8

_**A/N: Thanks to my beta, Olethros. **_

* * *

**Erik: the Vampire Hunter - The Continuing Adventures**

**Episode 8**

By: Elektra

_Gather to me… _

Its head shot up as It heard the voice of a master long thought gone. Others took notice of It, tossing their meals to the ground, thick red liquid staining the grass beneath them.

They knew where to go. They know whom to go to. But their leader was not alone. There was another with him. Another that took over when he slept. And this other was weak. This other cared about the lesser beings, had even made friends.

Their master wanted this other gone. Wanted full control of the body he inhabited. Or if not this body, then another. One close to him.

They would help him. Just as they always did.

* * *

**Barton Rd. and Brightman Ave - night**

Christine hugged Erik's arm as she kicked at the remnants of the season's first snowfall. "This is nice," she said. "You and me, walking down the street, catching snowflakes."

"_You_ are the one catching snowflakes, not I," Erik pointed out.

"Grumpy…" she muttered.

Erik scratched between the fleece cat ears on her head, the silly hat keeping her dry from the light dusting of snow, "Yes, I am. Always. This is nothing new."

Christine suddenly stepped in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. "Anything I can do to make you NOT grumpy?" she pouted.

Erik's eyes darted around beneath his white mask. He tugged his fedora low before gently dragging Christine into a darkened alleyway.

"Erik? What are you-" she stopped as he took her chin in his hand, tilting her head up before leaning down to kiss her.

He licked his lips as he pulled away, "Perhaps that will help."

"Well, let's just make sure," Christine insisted, reaching up once more. Erik suddenly twisted to the left, denying Christine contact. "Wha…?"

"Pardon me, Christine…" Erik reached into his duster, body tensed and ready for attack.

He didn't have to wait long.

Palming a stake in his gloved hand, Erik easily sidestepped his quarry as It bolted out of its hiding place. The creature aimed a fist at Erik's head, but the Hunter blocked the shot and countered with right backhand to the jaw before his left fist connected with the creature's throat. He then slammed It against the brick wall, only a few feet from Christine.

"I suggest you move, beloved," he warned the petite girl. She quickly did so. The stake was plunged into the creature's chest before It could retaliate.

Erik stepped away from the wall and brushed the dust off his clothing. "Well now, that was interesting…" he held his hand out to Christine. She took it without hesitation.

Ignoring the scent of fresh grave dust that now covered his clothes, Christine hugged herself against his side. "They haven't been around for a long time."

"They've been around," Erik answered as they headed out into dimly lit street once again. "I am not always in the basement when you find our bed empty." Christine could see him furrow his brow beneath the soft cotton, "I _do_ have the feeling this one singled me out though."

"Why?"

"I could not tell you. Any reason for them to come after me is long dead and buried,"

* * *

**Daaé–Garner Residence**

Loki stared at the feline in front of him sitting on the couch. The trickster crouched before it. He narrowed his eyes. The feline did the same.

Or rather, it narrowed ONE eye, as the other seemed to be milky-white.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Loki demanded, but received a bored yawn in response.

Loki suddenly jumped at the sound of the front door opening. He turned to greet the owners of the house, who seemed less than happy to see him.

Before he could even speak, the trickster found a strong, gloved hand around his throat, "What are you doing in MY house?" Erik hissed.

"I just thought…" Loki coughed, "I thought… you… you'd like to know… Orpheus is acting oddly."

Erik narrowed his eyes and let go of Loki's neck, "What do you mean, _oddly_?"

"He came to the Populaire late tonight," Loki explained. "He started wandering around. Made the cleaning crew wonder what was up."

Erik studied the creature before him, "Do you LIVE there?"

Loki raised an eyebrow, "I wouldn't talk if I were you, Opera Ghost!" He then glanced back at the feline on the couch, "This thing has been staring at me since I got here, by the way."

Christine tapped her thigh, "Odin, c'mere sweetie…"

"ODIN?" Loki sputtered. "You did NOT name a feline after my great lord!"

"_I_ did," Erik responded as Odin ran to Christine. "I thought it was rather fitting,"

Christine lifted the cat into her arms, nuzzling her face in his fur, "Aww, I know. You don't like the scary man with the bright red hair…" she cooed.

"No one appreciates me," Loki sniffed. "I don't know why I bother with you mortals."

Christine looked back at him, "Sorry, Loki. So you say Oren-er-Orpheus is acting funny?"

"Yes!" Loki replied, happy to have an audience once more. "And I'm sensing something different about him as well. Like Orpheus is only partly there."

"Meaning?" Erik asked.

"Meaning that there's something _else_ going on. I don't know what, though." He sat down on the couch and made himself comfortable.

"I do not recall inviting you stay," Erik frowned.

Loki looked up at him, "You expect me to go back to the theatre? With THEM?"

"Them?" Christine asked, then glanced at Erik worriedly.

"Yes, there are _dead things_ wandering around there too! But they look alive," he shrugged, "More alive than your lover, at least,"

"You are not staying here!" Erik snapped.

"Well…" Christine nibbled her lower lip, "If he stays downstairs or something…"

Erik turned back to Christine and pulled her aside. She put Odin down and followed him. Erik's voice dropped to a whisper, "It is enough that you worry the ones outside will see us when we are intimate. I will not have HIM invading our privacy as well!"

"Only until we can figure out why those _things_ are back," Christine offered.

"Who knows how long that will be!" he frowned, "I cannot take another however many weeks without-" he stopped when he noticed Loki creeping closer, listening in on their conversation.

"What?" Loki asked innocently when Erik caught him.

Erik looked back at his fiancée, "This will not work,"

Christine let out a deep breath and addressed their visitor, "I'm sorry, but Erik's right. You can't stay here. We have enough problems with our privacy as it is,"

Loki seemed disappointed. "Very well. I will leave you alone."

Before Christine could apologize, he disappeared.

"Good riddance," Erik muttered as he headed upstairs.

"I don't know if _I'd_ want to go back to the theatre either," Christine started as she followed him. "I mean, if what Loki said is true and there are vamps hanging out…"

"I will be there every night protecting you," he offered as he led her into their room.

Christine nodded. "Do you think Loki will actually stay away?"

"If we're lucky," Erik replied as he stripped down a few feet away. Christine could not help but watch him, her eyes following the trail of darkened scars as they made their way over his lovely backside.

Keeping his back to her, Erik slid off his mask and let it flutter to the floor, "Erik is yours to do with as you wish, Christine. No need to simply stare."

She smiled, "Well, in _that_ case…" she started to make her way over to him when a voice froze her in her tracks.

"Oh, one more thing!"

Erik suddenly made a beeline for the fiery haired man who had just appeared in their bedroom, pinning him to the wall by the throat.

"Ms. Daaé! HELP!" Loki coughed out desperately, "There's a naked corpse trying to kill me!" He then glanced over at her, "Though I think I finally figured out why you stay with him…"

Erik threw Loki halfway across the room and tugged on his sleep shorts.

Christine crossed her arms and frowned, understanding why Erik didn't want the troublesome god around (and grateful he had not interrupted a few minutes later). "What are you doing here? Again?"

"Orpheus was calling your lover's name!" Loki replied quickly, massaging his sore neck,

"If he has an issue with me, then I shall deal with it accordingly," Erik replied.

Loki shuddered, "I do not think I want to be Orpheus…"

* * *

**The Populaire – the next day**

_Romeo and Juliet_ had finished its run, and now the company was preparing for a holiday performance of _The Magic Flute_. Christine was sitting in one of the theatre seats, going over the role of Pamina, when Oren – assigned to play Tamino – came upon her.

"This looks like it could be quite a fun performance," he said as he sat beside her.

Christine glanced up at him with a smile, then turned back to the score, "Well, a lot less depressing than the last one, that's for sure,"

He watched her for a few moments, then finally spoke, "Ms. Christine, it seems you and I continue to be playing the romantic leads of these operas."

"Well, a lot of operas have a soprano and tenor as the leads, so…" she shrugged.

"Is your fiancé not a tenor as well?" he asked.

"Erik is _everything_," Christine replied proudly. "The entire spectrum."

"That is… incredible…" Oren replied awed.

"Erik is an incredible guy," she smiled.

"Why do the managers not hire him then?" he asked.

"Erik doesn't like making a spectacle of himself," she stopped, "Well… the CAM incident not withstanding."

"That is not the only reason though, is it?" Oren asked, though Christine could tell he already knew the answer. He leaned forward, his voice suddenly deeper and darker. "I know what he is hiding,"

It was a voice Christine found strange, yet familiar. She didn't like it.

"I do not understand how a beautiful woman like you can stand to have him in your bed!"

Christine's eyes went wide, hugging herself as goose-bumps prickled up and down her arms. "What place do YOU have to say that?"

Oren blinked a few times, as if his words surprised even himself, "I… I have no place," he glanced away, noticeably perplexed, "Forgive me, Ms. Christine. I do not know why…"

Christine recalled Loki's words the other night – that Oren was acting odd. _This_ was certainly odd.

"I had a sudden image of him," Oren tried to explain, "A _frightening_ image of what he hides beneath his mask. Please, Ms. Christine, tell me I am wrong. Tell me his face is not pale skin stretched over skeletal bones. Tell me you cannot see the trail of blue veins, that his nose is not merely a ragged hole." He suddenly grasped her hand, "Tell me he does not look like Death incarnate!"

Christine opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again. She could not tell Oren what he wanted to hear when he already knew the truth.

With a deep breath, she glanced away, "Erik is… _different_," she said softly. "I'm not going to lie. He looks like that." She shook her head, "But how do you even know? You've never seen him without his mask!"

He pulled his hands back and tangled them in his gold and black hair, "I do not know!" He cried out, "I do not know why I see this!"

"But, you're a _seer_, aren't you?" Christine asked. "That's what all the books say, anyway."

Oren looked nervous, "Wha-what are you talking about?"

"I know who you are, Orpheus," Christine said quietly, to prevent from being overheard, "We figured it out. I don't know why Martine woke you, but you've woken up _others_ too."

He saw no reason to lie to her any longer, "I know Anansi was woken. He came to _thank_ me for it," he smiled, "He missed his wife." He then looked back at Christine, "Just as I miss mine…"

"I'm _not_ Eurydice," she said quickly, "So you just get that notion out of your head!"

"But-"

"NO, Oren. I'm Christine Daaé. I was born twenty-two years ago. That's it. No reincarnation, or awakening, or whatever." She then met his eyes, "And I'm going to be _Erik's _wife."

"Are you going to have lovely little corpse children too?" he asked coldly.

"Oren!" Christine gasped, and for a moment, she could have sworn she saw his eyes flash gold.

Oren jumped to his feet, "What-_why_ did I just say that?" He ran his fingers through his hair, looking thoroughly distraught, "Forgive me, Ms. Christine. I think… I think I need to rest. Yes… rest. That might do me some good. Good bye…"

Before Christine could respond, Oren was gone.

Something strange was happening to the usually mild-mannered man, and she had a feeling it wasn't going to end well.

**End of Episode 8**


	9. Episode 9

**_A/N: Thanks to my beta, _****_Olethros_****_; as well as my "Skiing Specialist", Le Chat Noir_**

* * *

**Erik: the Vampire Hunter - The Continuing Adventures **

Episode 9

By: Elektra

**Daaé-Garner Residence**

Christine sat on the couch, feet up as she flicked through the channels on television, not minding that Erik was currently using her thigh for a pillow as he lay out on the couch, his long legs dangling over the armrest.

Her ghost was rather tired this evening, trying to undo the damage a very bored Loki had caused at the Populaire earlier during rehearsals. He had refused to sit still and allow the meddlesome trickster to ruin what everyone had put so much work in to.

Glancing around the room, Christine noted the blinds and drapes were shut. It was a necessary evil due to the latest interest in CAM, though Christine was starting to miss the daily sunlight that usually streamed into the living room.

With a resigned sigh, she slid Erik's mask off and placed it on the table beside her, stroking his face as she continued trying to find something interesting to watch on television.

Long thin fingers slid over the back of Christine's hand as Erik pressed his skeletal cheek into her palm. "What would you like for supper, beloved?"

"Are you cooking?" she smirked.

"No, but I am ordering." He pushed himself into a sitting position and reached for the portable phone.

Christine laughed, "Pizza then."

"Hmm, I would think a student of ballet would not eat such food,"

"I'm not a student of ballet any more," she said, then dropped her voice to a low whisper. "And spending a few energetic nights with _you_ gives me more of a workout than my ballet classes ever did."

He was about to respond to that when the sound of a bell caught his attention. He frowned. "I will be right back."

"Wait… what _was_ that?" she asked.

"Someone has gotten too close to the house," he said.

Christine looked up at him, "You set an alarm bell?"

He shrugged, "If we are to have unexpected visitors, I would like to know ahead of time."

He started to head out, and Christine called out to him, holding up his mask. He simply offered a cold smirk, and continued on without it. Christine sat back on the couch and played with the mask in her hands, waiting for him to return.

After a few minutes, she stood up and paced back and forth. What was Erik doing? Who was he doing it TOO?

Christine suddenly jumped at the sound of a scream. A male scream.

She sat back down on the couch with a heavy sigh. Erik had obviously rid them of the intruder, but for a moment, she worried it was _permanent_.

_No_, she told herself. _He promised he quit that life… _

Christine heart leapt when Erik returned. "Well, that photographer certainly won't be back." He smirked.

She tried not to show her apprehension, "What did you do?"

"I frightened him away," he said as he sat beside Christine once again, noting her sigh of relief. He couldn't blame her.

"You know," he continued, "I've often wondered if CAM should not just make his face known. After all, living corpses would not sell magazines, thus cutting down on photographers, nor would they invade women's fantasies, thus cutting down on those claiming to bed me."

Christine opened her mouth to protest, and Erik quickly placed a finger over her lips, "Present company excluded."

She shook her head. "But still, this is getting crazy."

Christine glanced out the window at the light snowfall and looked down at Erik, a thought coming to her, "Honey, maybe now would be a good time to take the skiing trip Raoul was talking about…"

* * *

**DeChagny Chalet – a week later**

Everyone stood in the large living room, suitcases at their sides as Raoul addressed them. "Welcome to the DeChagny Family Chalet," he smiled. "I hope you all enjoy the stay here. If there's anything lacking, let me know and I'll look after it,"

"More beer. This's the last bottle!" A crackling voice complained as the hunched figure shuffled her way towards the rest of the group from the kitchen.

"Grandmother Giry…" Raoul sighed. "We still have a six pack-"

"Gone," Grandma interrupted.

"Of course," he muttered. "I'll get more tomorrow."

"Thass'a good boy! A good, pretty boy! Gran'ma might give you a special pres'nt later," Grandma winked at Raoul as she guzzled the bottle in her hand. Raoul shuddered in disgust.

"Grandma, the beautiful boy is _mine_," Meg said as she took Raoul's hand protectively. He smiled down at her in relief.

"Well, there's always th'sexy mask'd one," Grandma glanced over at Erik and offered him a wink as well. "More a _man_, you are…"

"Grandmother Giry," Erik began politely but sternly, "I belong to another." He possessively put an arm around Christine's shoulders and leaned in towards her, his voice low when he spoke, "If she attempts to grab my backside again this year, I will leave!"

"Well, I guess I should tell you all your sleeping arrangements," Raoul spoke up again, grabbing everyone's attention once more. "Madame," he nodded to each in kind, "Your room is up the stairs to the far left. Grandmother, you'll be in the room beside them. _I'll_ be sharing a room with-"

Raoul froze as Madame Giry focused her eyes on him, her steely gaze leaving him cold. He thought quickly, "… uh… the Christmas tree!" he said quickly. "I'll sleep in the _living room_, of course."

"What!" Meg's eyes went wide, "But we-"

"It's the gentlemanly thing to do, Megan," Madame Giry interrupted.

Meg turned to her, a frown upon her lips, "Right, because it's not like we LIVE TOGETHER or anything!"

"It's ok, Meg," Raoul said as he took her hand. "I don't mind sleeping on the couch. This way, you can room with your grandmother. And hey, Erik is going to be on the _other_ couch and-"

"Pardon?" Erik interrupted. "I believe I will be staying with _Christine_."

"It's the gentlemanly thing to do, Erik," Raoul pointed out, smirking at the fact he would not be the only one to suffer lonely nights.

"Since when have I ever been a _gentleman_, DeChagny?"

Raoul's smirk faded, "But-" he stopped, realizing Madame Giry didn't seem overly concerned about where Erik would sleep, or with whom.

"Well, if all is settled, I will be taking my things upstairs," Giry said as she grasped her suitcase and headed off to settle in.

Raoul narrowed his eyes and glared at Erik once she was gone, "What the hell was that about?" he snapped. "How is it she gives _me_ a death glare before I could even suggest sharing the same room as Meg, but _you_ staying with Christine is all hunky-dory?"

Erik shrugged, "Perhaps because Antoinette knows better than to raise my ire about such things."

Meg scoffed at that, "Like Ray and I haven't been sharing the same bed for the last six months!"

Erik turned to her, "Your mother is not ignorant, Little Giry. My best guess is she simply does not want to be faced with it when she is in the same building."

"It's MY chalet," Raoul muttered as he tossed his suitcase on the couch.

"And Madame Giry is your girlfriend's mother." Christine pointed out.

Raoul seemed to think about that for a moment, "Good point."

"You can sneak into my room later," Meg winked. "Grandma will be deep asleep," She gave Raoul a quick kiss, then grabbed her bags and headed upstairs.

"_Our_ room?" Erik asked.

"Huh?" Raoul looked up from the suitcase he was opening, "Oh, yeah… there're two empty ones on the right now. Pick whichever." He turned back to his belongings.

Christine thanked him cheerfully before her and Erik grabbed their bags and headed upstairs.

"It's MY chalet!" Raoul repeated to the empty room. The Christmas tree lights simply continued to blink cheerfully in response.

* * *

**The Next Day**

Christine eagerly led Erik to the first slope of the day. They had lagged behind the rest of the group, Christine needing to show him how to properly put on a pair of ski boots and skis.

"Where are we going?" he asked suspiciously when he saw a group of children and only two adults.

"Ski school," Christine answered.

Erik frowned, "Why do I need ski school?"

"Because you haven't been skiing before?" she pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

Erik scoffed at that, "My lack of ski experience non-withstanding, it does not look so difficult that I need SCHOOLING!"

"Humour me, ok?"

Reluctantly, Erik did so. They arrived at the group just in time to hear two terms being used the 'pizza pie' and the 'french fry'. Erik did not take his golden eyes off the instructors, who seemed a little uncomfortable with a tall masked man joining a group of children.

"Now pizza pie is how to stop," the first instructor informed the students, "And french fry is when you put the skis parallel to actually move. Like this." She demonstrated, then turned to Erik, "Sir, would you like to-" the instructor froze, eyes growing wide, "You're not… I mean, you couldn't be… CAM?"

"No, I am ANOTHER masked freak. Continue with the lesson!" He snapped impatiently.

"Yes sir, of course!" The instructor sputtered, "Uh well… um… yeah, the french fry,"

With an impatient sigh, Erik did as he was shown, and found himself sliding uncontrollably down the bunny slope, Christine following close behind, laughing as he desperately tried to balance himself.

When they finally reached the bottom, he stopped easily enough but appeared quite arrogant, "As I thought, it was not difficult."

"Then why were you screaming?" Christine asked.

"I was not screaming. I was simply warning others that I was coming."

"Of course you were. Let's try the blues then."

"Blues?"

"Yeah, a bit steeper than this. With moguls. Since you're such a quick learner and all, it shouldn't be a problem," she smirked.

"Where is DeChagny? Shouldn't he be here as well?"

"Raoul is in the double blacks – the most advanced slopes. He's been skiing since he was a kid,"

Erik narrowed his eyes, "Are you telling me that there is something DeChagny knows that _I_ do not?"

Christine raised an eyebrow, "Believe it or not, Erik, Raoul hasn't been living in a basement for half his life."

"Are you belittling me?" Erik asked warningly.

"No, lover. I'm just pointing out a fact."

With a scowl, Erik pushed off, "Where are those blues? I will show you that I am at least _somewhat_ competent!"

"Right this way!" Christine offered, leading the way towards the next set of hills.

After several minutes - and a rather embarrassing incident on the ski lift which ended up with Erik on his rear when his weight shifted the lift forward a little too much - the two finally started down a blue slope side by side.

"See, beloved?" Erik began, "I told you I would not have a problem figuring out-" his voice halted, "What the HELL is that?"

"Mogul. JUMP!" Christine ordered.

Erik simply stopped his skis and sat down on the snowy ground as Christine flew over the mogul before her. When she realized she had lost her masked man, she halted and turned back to him. "C'mon! I thought you said this was easy?"

"This is _ridiculous_!" he shouted back. "Who thought of such a foolish sport? Sliding down a mountain such as this? Flying over … what did you call them? Moguls? It is insanity!"

"Look who's talking!" Christine shot back. "If you don't get your sweet buns over here, I'll call for the ski patrol, I swear!"

"You wouldn't dare!" He retorted.

"Want to try me!" Christine asked, hands on hips. "If you were frightened, Erik, you should have just said so! But no, heaven forbid Erik Garner admits there is something he CAN'T do!"

"Frightened?" he roared, "_I_ am the one who frightens _others_! I am the Opera Ghost!" Erik stood back up again and pushed off, heading down with far more grace and agility than he had shown earlier.

With a smirk unseen by the black-clad man zipping by her, Christine mused on how well she knew the male ego - or rather, _one_ male's ego – and quickly followed after him.**

* * *

Late that night**

Raoul slowly woke and glanced at the watch on his wrist. 1:30am.

After a busy day of skiing and a rather filling Christmas dinner, he had retired to the couch for a nap. It seemed the nap had been far longer than he had wanted. He had spoken to Meg about visiting her at some point in the night. The plan was thus: Meg would sneak into the spare room once Grandmother was asleep and await his arrival.

Raoul walked up the stairs and headed to the designated room only to find the door open and the bed empty. Curious, he walked towards the room he had saved for Meg. Perhaps Grandmother was off getting drunk and had left his lover alone for the night.

Quietly pushing the door open, he saw a small form sleeping in one of the twin beds. There was no one else around.

"Meg?" Raoul whispered softly. He heard no sound from the sleeping form. "Meggy?" There was a soft sound now, a mutter. Hardly distinguishable as an answer, but he would take what he could get.

With careful, hushed movements, he slid beneath the sheets.

* * *

**Erik and Christine's Room**

"I'm SO not going to sleep tonight," Christine muttered as she watched the TV screen from behind splayed fingers. "This movie is creepy!"

"Which is precisely the reason Little Giry so highly recommends it," Erik answered, receiving a thumbs up from the girl sitting a few feet in front of himself and Christine.

"I've wanted you to see this for the longest time," Meg replied. "It's a great creep out! And now that you have a guy to cling to – who is a hell of a lot scarier than a dead woman crawling upsidedown down the stairs, by the way – you have no more excuses!"

"Weren't you supposed to meet with Raoul tonight?" Christine asked.

Meg brushed of her concern with a wave of her hand, "Poor guy was out cold on the couch. I couldn't bear to wake him. Grandma has the room to herself tonight."

"But if Raoul thinks _you're_ in there-"

"Don't worry, Erik told me he informed Ray of the change in plans before he came upstairs," Meg shrugged. "I guess he just decided to go back to sleep instead,"

Christine eyed Erik suspiciously.

"I DID mention it to him, beloved," Erik insisted. "I give you my word."

"Oooh, this is the best part! Shhh!" Meg interrupted.

Christine screamed and jumped, Erik grasping her to keep her from falling off the crowded bed.

She quickly froze, eyes wide, "Did you hear that?" Christine asked in a hushed frightenened whisper.

"I heard you scream, yes." Erik replied. "I am sure the entire _ski resort_ heard."

"No! There was another scream! It sounded male… down the hall…" she stopped and looked up at Erik, realization hitting her. "You gave your WORD that you told Raoul about the change!" Christine accused.

Erik shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, "If the boy was so dead asleep that he did not hear me, that is hardly MY fault, now is it…"

Meg slowly turned to look at Erik and understood what Christine had been referring to. Her mouth shaped into an 'o', a rather unladylike word escaping her lips, "SHIT!"

* * *

**DeChagny Chalet Kitchen - an hour later**

Once the excitement had settled down and Grandmother Giry understood that she would not be sharing her bed with the lovely blond man who had snuck beneath her bedsheets earlier, Raoul found himself left alone with Erik as the two sat in the kitchen.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Raoul demanded. "Meg told me you promised her you'd inform me of the change. NOW her mom thinks I'm a pervert, and her grandma thinks I want to sleep with her!"

"Well, I certainly cannot help what they think, DeChagny."

Raoul narrowed his eyes, "Will it always be like this with you?" he asked. "Our girlfriends are best friends. We're going to be stuck hanging out with each other for a long time. Do you really want to let this continue? I swear, this is so childish!"

"I would watch what I say if I were you," Erik hissed. "I do not take kindly to insults!"

"You don't take kindly to A LOT of things," Raoul pointed out. "I'm surprised you even take kindly to _Christine_."

He looked away with a sigh, his voice dropping lower, "Listen, Erik. I like Meg. No…" he turned back to the masked man and met his eyes, "I _love_ Meg, ok? I seriously love her. I've never felt this way about a girl before. I don't know if you care or not, but I want you to know. This _has_ to work for us. I'm going to get enough crap from my brother about marrying a girl who's so far below our social circle, I don't need to mess things up with HER family too!"

"Marry?" Erik asked curiously.

Raoul blinked quickly, "Did… did I say _marry_?"

"You did. If you wish, I can repeat your entire rant, in your voice no less,"

Raoul furrowed his brow, "You can do that?" He quickly shook his head, "No, never mind. That isn't important." He glanced down at the table, "I really said _marry_, huh?" he let out a small laugh, "Never thought of it until just now, actually. We haven't even talked about it. Heck, we've been together less than a year. Probably a little too quick to even consider it."

"_I_ knew almost immediately," Erik answered. "Although, Christine did not, obviously."

"When _did_ you propose to her anyway?" Raoul asked.

Erik opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again. He knew exactly when he had proposed down to the second. It had been the first night they had become physically intimate.

He did not, however, think that would be wise to share with the man in front of him.

"Why are you speaking of this to _me_ of all people?" Erik answered instead. "Do you not have any friends you can confide in? I do not care for your little social issues."

"Of course you don't," Raoul answered, then looked away. "As far as friends go, you guys are it," he replied quietly. "I have hundreds of acquaintances, but none of them I would consider _friends_."

"_I_ am not your friend either."

Raoul glanced up at him, then shook his head, "That's too bad, Erik. You might find we actually have a lot in common."

Erik let out a harsh laugh, "I am not a rich handsome socialite, DeChagny. I cannot drop my name in a restauraunt and be ushered to the best seat. I am not catered to by every person I meet, I cannot charm a room full of people with a winning smile or a sparkle in my eye. I am _not_ easy going, I was never brought up by a loving family, and my school peers never bent over backwards to 'get in good' with me."

Erik leaned back, arms crossed as he regarded Raoul from behind his mask, "We have NOTHING in common!"

"We're in love with two incredible women who have probably changed our lives," Raoul replied, raising his voice angrily. "_That_, Erik, is something we DO have in common. It may just be _one_ thing, but it's the most _important_ thing! It's for _their_ sake that I attempt to be friendly with you and DON'T kick your ass out of my chalet, no matter how tempted I am right now!"

Erik studied the man before him, then allowed a ghost of a smile to appear on his pale lips, "Impressive," he said. "You actually dared to stand up to me, instead of bitching like a spoiled whiny child."

As Raoul contemplated his meaning, the masked man pushed to his feet. "Little Giry wants me to inform you that she is through the second door to the right, at the top of the stairs. She will be waiting for you all night – and there will be no more surprises. Good night, DeChagny."

Before Raoul could respond, Erik left the kitchen and returned to his room. After a few more minutes, Raoul headed upstairs.

Hesitantly, he knocked softly on the second door to the right, "Come in, babe," a voice answered welcomingly.

Relieved, Raoul entered the room, closing the door securely behind him. "Meggy…"

"Ray…" she answered. "About damned time!"

* * *

**A week later**

Their skiing trip over, Erik and Christine sat quite comfortably on the couch, the petite girl laying against the larger man, watching a replay of the entertainment news after a successful evening performance. Both of them wanted to see if the CAM mania had died down.

Alas, it was not to be.

"On Entertainment Daily," the host began as she teed up the show, "We talk to someone who claims CAM is hiding far more than his identity. The secret behind the mask, later tonight."

Christine raised her head from Erik's shoulder and met his eyes, curious as to who would dare come on television and claim to know what he looked like.

When the segment finally aired, Erik was ready to jump through the screen and strangle the boy who sat there: Richard Firmin Jr.

"There's a reason CAM has that mask. I've seen him without it!" RJ insisted. "He looks like a freakin' corpse! He doesn't even have a nose! And he wore that long coat to hide his pasty scrawny body! No woman would want _that_!"

Erik brushed away RJ's comments, "He is only angry because I caused him to release his bladder in the air ducts,"

Christine slipped a hand beneath Erik's shirt and furrowed her brow in concentration, "Okay, you're _lean_, maybe. But certainly not _scrawny_. And… well… _I_ want you,"

Erik glanced at her, "Yes. You have made that quite clear - on _several_ occasions,"

RJ continued his rant, "And he used to run around haunting Ravelle College. I mean, seriously! What kind of grown man does that?"

Erik's golden eyes suddenly narrowed, a scowl appearing on his face, "That cowardly little fool!" he hissed. "Now that I am no longer at the college, he feels he can speak about me behind my back? Does he not remember that I am in constant contact with his _father_?"

Christine began massaging her temples, an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

If people believed Erik was the ghost of Ravelle, how long would it take long before they realized he was the Opera Ghost as well?

**END OF EPISODE 9**


	10. Episode 10

**_A/N: Thanks to my beta, Olethros. _**

As you can probably guess, I'm unable to keep up with a weekly update, but I haven't abandoned the 'fic. I'm still writing it and don't have any plans to stop.

Thanks for your patience.

* * *

**Erik: the Vampire Hunter - The Continuing Adventures **

Episode 10

By: Elektra

**Daaé-Garner Residence**

Christine lay awake in bed, worrying over the latest turn of events: RJ's sudden need to go on an entertainment magazine and speak about Erik's mask and his hobby as the ghost of Ravelle.

One positive thing came of it, at least - Erik had _officially_ been declared the Populaire's artistic consultant.

It had been Firmin's way of sticking it to his son for his loose tongue, and a good excuse for the cast and crew should they ever happen upon Erik lurking around the Populaire regardless of his fiancée's presence.

Loki had now taken over the duties of 'resident troublemaker', causing havoc even when Erik was in plain sight. This helped squelch any lingering questions about the Opera Ghost's identity.

Of course, that didn't stop Erik from taking up his original title now and then, causing problems for those indignant about his new position – which, in most cases, were Sorelli and Jammes.

Christine was snapped out of her thoughts by an arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her back against a long lean body. "Unable to sleep, beloved?"

She nodded. "Erik…" she started, softly, "What if someone gets brave enough to see if RJ was right? About the mask?"

Erik brushed his lips against her neck, "They would regret it."

"That won't stop them from trying, though. I mean… it's already raised more curiousity about CAM." She shifted a little and he moved a few inches to allow her to turn and face him, "I went on the 'net the other night and did a search. Found some interesting websites and message boards with theories about what was beneath the mask."

"I've seen that myself. Did you find it humorous how many _fans_ claim they would love me no matter what? These people do not even know me! I recall Jammes and Sorelli 'loved' CAM as well, until they found out I was him." He let out a harsh laugh, "I believe I have lost two fans. Ah well."

He glanced across the room at the mask lying with his clothes for the next day, his voice growing softer, "To be honest, there are times I grow weary of hiding. I am beginning to feel I only wear the mask for the comfort of others," he turned back to Christine. "Let the world hate and despise _freaks_. I care only what _you_ think of me."

Christine offered a small smile, "Why? Because I'm the only one who will put up with you?"

His voice grew low as he trailed kisses down her neck and over her shoulder while a graceful hand sneaked beneath her tank top, "There are _other_ benefits I have gained in keeping within your favour."

She closed her eyes, enjoying the attention, "It's too bad you can't get any of those benefits tonight." She answered reluctantly, "I have an early morning. Seeing someone about wedding invitations. Want to come? We should both pick them out,"

"Firmin and André requested my presence early tomorrow."

She raised an eyebrow, "So you have an early morning too?" she smirked, "and here you wanted to keep ME up all night."

"Well, I do not need as much sleep as _you_ do, remember?"

Christine let out a soft laugh and gave Erik a quick kiss on the lips, then a longer, lingering one before she finally turned over again and spooned herself against him. She could hear his disappointed growl in her ear, but ignored it as she attempted to sleep.

Suddenly, something flickered before her eyes, and disappeared just as quickly. Assuming it was nothing worth noting, she ignored it.

The flicker came again, but this time it was in the form of a female's face. A strange, frightening face. Half was pale and beautiful, but the other half…

Christine sat up with a scream, only to be grabbed by a concerned Erik. "Christine?" She closed her eyes and allowed herself to fall back against him as his arms wrapped around her protectively. "What's wrong?"

"I saw something," she answered shakily. "It looked…_dead_."

"You _do_ remember what you share your bed with, don't you?" He pointed out as he lay back down and pulled her against him.

She shifted in his arms and rested her head upon his shoulder. "This was different. This… was female. And… half beautiful, half… half _dead_."

Erik gently took her hand and slid her fingers over his face – and the hole that pretended to be a nose. "Like _this_?"

She pushed herself up a bit and looked directly at him, "It was…_ different_," she insisted. "Cold and creepy! And… _rotting_. I mean… all greenish gross rotting."

She buried her face against his neck, "Maybe it was one of those things you see just as you're drifting off to sleep. You know, when your mind plays weird tricks on you."

"Perhaps," Erik replied, rubbing her back affectionately. He wasn't entirely convinced it was her imagination, though.

Christine let out a soft sigh and closed her eyes as she snuggled closer to him, "Sing me to sleep?"

He placed a light kiss upon her forehead and did as she requested. She fell asleep shortly after.

* * *

**Outside the Populaire – the next evening**

Singing along to a song on her iPod, Christine hopped off the bus and walked through the parking lot of the Populaire. Erik would come pick her up in the car and take her home after the performance.

No sooner had she taken three steps than she found herself surrounded by cameras, tape recorders, and microphones.

"Miss Daaé, over here!"

"Tell us about CAM!"

"Is it true?"

"Is he really a freak?"

"What is he hiding behind the mask?"

"I'm so glad to see the media's interest in the arts here at the Populaire…" a voice spoke up behind Christine.

She turned to see Raoul standing a few feet away, Philip beside him. "I see you've met our lead soprano, Christine Daaé," he put a hand on her shoulder, and Christine found herself grateful for the support.

Philip continued where Raoul left off, "I must request that if you wish for interviews, you call up the Populaire's office and submit a list of questions you want to ask. Interviews will not be granted otherwise, and bombarding our cast before or after performances is not allowed."

"Don't forget," Raoul continued, smiling for the cameras, "The Populaire's opera company alternates nights withour ballet company. This season's production of _The Nutcracker_ will star the lovely Megan Giry as Clara. Thank you for your interest and we'll be looking forward to those interview requests."

With a firm hand on her back, Raoul led Christine to the stage door and away from the crowd. Once they were finally inside, Christine let out the breath she had been holding.

"Thank you so much," she said as she looked up at her momentary savior.

"No problem," Raoul replied. "You shouldn't have to put up with that crap, really. Erik needs to get this in hand, and fast.

Christine nodded, "I know. We were talking about it last night."

Raoul leaned down and met her eyes, "Tell him he needs to do more than _talk_ about it." He pat her back, "You should get ready. I'll catch you later,"

"Thanks again." Christine answered. Raoul gave her a mock salute and headed off.

* * *

**Dressing room**

Lowell Key sat beside Oren, talking shop as his client put the finishing touches on his stage make up , "I was thinking that it was time you asked for a raise."

"A raise?" Oren repeated, brow furrowed. "What should I ask to be raised?"

Lowell rolled his eyes, "No, no Oren. I am referring to a raise in regards to your salary!"

"Ahh, you mean I should ask for more money?"

"Exactly!" Lowell replied, "Of course, my commission might need to be raised as well, but-"

"Your commission is _already_ too much," Oren interrupted him.

Lowell simply stared at Oren, "Pardon? Surely you jest!"

"You are ripping me off more than you are helping me. Maybe it is time I fired you as my manager," Oren declared.

"But-"

"Shut up, trickster! I want nothing more from you!" Oren hissed, his eyes flashing gold momentarily. "If I see you again, you will be sorry…"

Disturbed by Oren's tone and attitude, Loki shifted into his natural form and quickly made himself scarce.

Oren watched the god disappear, then quickly blinked and shook his head.

"Lowell?" he called out softly. "Lowell, I… I did not mean that!" He stood up, looking around for his manager.

"Lowell?" He called out once again, "Where did you go?"

Oren momentarily caught sight of his reflection in one of the mirrors and slowly went up to it. Reaching the tips of his fingers out to touch the cool glass, he outlined the strangely golden eyes that looked so foreign in his face.

"Or rather…" he spoke to himself, "Where did _I_ go?"

* * *

**After the performance**

Christine went through her usual post-show ritual. The show had ended a half-an-hour ago, but she had been feeling ill at ease all day, even during the performance. She wondered if it had been noticeable on stage.

Not only did she still see various reporters still milling about outside, but she had felt someone watching her. Someone that wasn't Erik.

With a deep breath, she cleaned the makeup off her face and closed her eyes. When she looked up into the mirror, she couldn't help but scream.

For a brief moment, she could have sworn she saw that frightening female face once again.

Seconds later, a full white mask was reflected instead.

She spun around and threw her arms around Erik, burying her face in his shirt.

"What is it, Christine?" he asked as he gently ran his fingers through her hair.

"The face. I saw it again. In the mirror!"

Erik frowned and looked up, "LOKI? Get over here! NOW!"

"Before you start blaming me for anything," a voice off to the left began, "I should inform you that our lead tenor is getting stranger and stranger! He FIRED me! Can you believe that?"

Erik and Christine turned to see Loki several feet away, looking rather distraught as he paced back and forth, "My meal ticket is GONE!" he cried out. "He.., he actually told me OFF!"

"I could care less about your personal disagreements with Orpheus," Erik snapped. "I want to know why you are you playing tricks on Christine!"

Loki seemed confused, "What tricks? I have done _nothing_ to your fiancée!"

Erik seemed unconvinced, "So you are not frightening her with images of disturbing faces?"

Loki raised a fiery eyebrow, "Now why would I do that? She has to look at YOUR face every night. That is frightening enough."

Christine gently pushed away from Erik and turned to Loki, "This face was female. Half-beautiful, half-rotting."

Loki paled for a moment, then quickly blinked and shook his head, "I know nothing about that. Sorry. I… I need to find myself another client. Goodbye." He disappeared before either had a chance to question him further.

Erik glanced at Christine, "There is something he knows."

"So… I'm _not_ going crazy?" Christine asked as sat down in the makeup chair.

"I do not think you are crazy. You are not one prone to hallucinations." Erik leaned back against the table, "HE is keeping secrets."

"Of course he is," a voice answered.

Erik and Christine looked to see a woman standing several feet away in the shadows. Though her face was hidden, long golden hair could be seen flowing gently down the right side of her head, long black hair down the left.

"He doesn't want to see me. He never does," the woman continued softly. "He denies my existence even now."

"Who are you?" Christine asked. "Why do you keep appearing to me?"

"I am often called Hel. And I appeared to you because I know you could get to him."

"Loki, you mean?" Erik asked.

She nodded slowly. "Could you speak to him, perhaps? Tell him I wish to see him face to face?"

"Why would you want to?" Erik asked. "He makes a rather poor father."

"Father!" Christine sputtered. "She's his kid?"

Hel turned around and walked a few feet away, a pout on her half-face. "Not that he would admit it."

Christine walked towards Hel, "You really want to talk to him, don't you?" she asked gently. "I mean, you seem so sad…"

Hel looked at Christine, who was slowly getting used to the eerie woman's face, "If you could speak to your father again, would you not want to?"

Christine offered a small smile, "I wish I could. Every day. He's long gone though"

Hel nodded, "My father is immortal, so I cannot understand loss in that way. My mother was a giantess named Angrboða. I do not know where she is either."

"Perhaps you may have better luck finding _her_ than talking to Loki," Erik replied.

Hel turned from Christine and focused on Erik. She walked up to him, long black robes flowing out behind her. "You hide your face. Why?"

He shrugged, "If you wish to walk around in public, I would suggest you do the same,"

Erik's mask suddenly flew off his face into Hel's hand. He stood nonplussed. Christine remembered a time he would have immediately hid his face.

"But, you are beautiful. Has no one ever told you that?" she asked.

Erik let out a harsh laugh, "I have been told by only one person that I am beautiful, though even Christine will admit she is not speaking of my face,"

Hel glanced at the girl in question, then dropped the mask to the floor and moved even closer to Erik, standing almost at eye level with the tall man.

"Um, excuse me?" Christine spoke up, "Can you… maybe… NOT get so close to my fiancé?"

Hel ignored the petite girl and traced Erik's face with long black fingernails, "You would be my perfect mate. Both of us made of living death…"

"Hey!" Christine snapped as she pushed herself between Hel and Erik, "Find your own living dead man. This one's _mine_!"

Hel looked down at her, "You are a lovely little mortal girl, but a creature such as he does not belong to you."

Christine felt Erik's arms wrap around her and pull her back against him, "And yet, I rather _enjoy_ belonging to her," he replied.

Hel let out a soft sigh, "Well, perhaps you may change your mind. Alas, I cannot force you."

Loki's daughter was about to say more, but something caught her attention. She furrowed her brow, then turned back to the two in front of her, "Is there another like you here?" she asked Erik.

Erik frowned, "Another like me? I should hope not."

"Then…" she stopped and shook her head, "Never mind. It was similar to you, but then it was gone." Hel looked back at Erik. "My offer still stands. I would gladly take you for a mate," she ran a hand over the ruined half of her face, "We have much in common."

"Shouldn't you be off finding your father or something?" Christine asked quickly.

Hel raised an eyebrow, "Perhaps. That is not to say I will leave when I DO find him, though…"

Without another word, Hel disappeared. Christine crossed her arms, tapping a foot, "I don't like her."

"I do not think she was all too fond of you, either," Erik replied, then slid an arm around Christine's shoulders. "Shall we head home, love?"

"Yes. Please." She turned around and looked up at him, "And since I'm off tomorrow, maybe you can reap those _benefits_ tonight," she winked.

Erik cleared his throat, "Let us go then…" He led Christine towards the nearest door.

"Wait! Your mask!" She pointed to the material that Hel had left on the floor. He quickly grabbed it and returned to Christine, eagerly rushing her out of the theatre.

* * *

**Outside the Populaire**

Several flashes of light nearly blinded Christine and Erik as they stepped out of the theatre. He felt a hand tug at his mask, his eyes momentarily unable to focus. Erik went on the attack, his fists hitting flesh without thinking. On instinct, he pulled a stake out of his duster, then realized it would be useless against these helpless humans.

Holding it as a weapon, however, it looked sharp enough to drive them back.

With his free hand, he grabbed Christine and tossed her over his shoulder. He heard her cry out in surprise and discomfort, but paid no heed as he rushed towards the car. He jammed the stake back in his duster and fumbled for the keys, hitting the remote to unlock the doors. He quickly put Christine in the passenger seat and slid into the driver's seat before starting the car and racing out of the parking lot.

Christine stared out the window as they left the mob behind, "My god! That… that was CRAZY!" she glanced over at Erik, and noted his mask had been partially ripped from his face, revealing a skeletal cheek. She only hoped that no one had seen it - or worse, snapped a picture.

She took a deep breath and slid her hand over the one he had clutching the gear shift. "You ok?"

His jaw was clenched, golden eyes narrowed, "Am I supposed to be?" he hissed. "Someone tried to blind me with a flash and rip the mask from my face!"

"I'm sorry…"

His expression softened slightly, "It is not _your_ fault, Christine."

"It's just…" she stopped and shook her head. "This is getting too much, and there's nothing I can do to help you…"

Erik finally pulled into their garage, shutting the automatic door as he turned the car off.

He turned to Christine and tilted her chin up, brushing his lips over hers, "You do not need to help me in this. It is something I must deal with on my own." He slid the torn material off his face and tossed it in the back seat, "No matter what mask I wear, it will never hide me,"

"Erik…" Christine bit her lip, an idea coming to her, "What if you got someone to deal with these people for you?"

"I can deal with them myself."

Christine let out a laugh, "Yeah, you're a real people person." She sighed, "I _mean_ you should find someone who can get those guys off your back. To… _represent _you, so to speak. Like an agent or something."

Erik thought about this a moment, then smirked. "Hmmm, yes… and then he would be far too busy to cause havoc!"

Christine studied him a moment, "Um… are we talking about the same thing?"

"We are," he chuckled coldly. "That is a fine idea!" He quickly stepped out of the car and rushed around to Christine's side, lifting her out of the passenger seat before she could get out on her own.

"What a smart woman I have chosen for a wife." He chuckled again, and Christine couldn't help but feel a little trepidations.

"Okay, the chuckling is creepy. Please stop. Now."

"Ah, forgive me. I simply had a humourous image come to mind." He shifted the girl in his arms, getting a better grip, "Now what about those benefits you were promising me earlier?"

She raised an eyebrow, "As long as you're not the only one who gets the benefits here."

"Have you ever been disappointed?"

She blushed in response, making it quite clear she had _not_ been disappointed.

With a satisfied smirk, Erik carried her upstairs.

**END OF EPISODE 10**


	11. Episode 11

**_A/N: Thanks to my beta, Olethros _**

* * *

**Erik: the Vampire Hunter - The Continuing Adventures **

Episode 11

By: Elektra

**The Populaire – Manager's office**

"This should say twenty-five percent commission," Loki frowned as he looked over the sheet of paper before him. Erik and Christine had been granted permission to use the manager's office on their day off in the hopes of getting in touch with the trickster.

Erik laughed harshly, "Do you think I am a fool like Oren?" he asked. "Your commission should be no more than fifteen percent! I _have_ done my homework. Of course, I think even that is too much for you, but I will find your alter-ego useful."

Loki sighed, "Fine. Lowell Key will only take a fifteen percent commission from CAM,"

"Good. Then sign here," Erik indicated the contract before him, "And know that this contract is not a _legal_ one, but one to keep an untrustworthy god in his place. You understand? The Guild has access to certain things that may make your immortal life rather uncomfortable should you try to cheat me..."

"Yes yes, I understand," Loki grumbled, and quickly signed his name. Erik did the same, and Christine was there to sign as a witness.

"Now," Loki stood up, "I believe CAM should have some publicity shots taken to satiate the public's curiousity. With the mask, of course. It will be your gimmick. Goodness knows no one wants to see your face."

Erik narrowed his eyes and glared at Loki, "I am beginning to have second thoughts…"

Loki ignored his comment and continued, "I will issue a press release saying that you are only accessible through ME. Should Christine be bothered because of you, or should you be hounded by the press in your private life, then the ones responsible will be on my blacklist. I will also apologize for your behaviour the other day."

"My behaviour?" Erik asked.

"Do you deny you attacked a group of reporters as you were leaving the Populaire?"

"They dared to touch my mask! Rip it from my face!" Erik hissed.

"As I thought," Loki sighed. "It was some rather bad press."

"It was indeed…" a voice interrupted.

The group turned to see two police officers – a male and a female - standing a few feet away.

"Mr. Garner," the male officer held out a pair of handcuffs, "You're under arrest for assault."

"Wait a sec! Who's charging him?" Christine demanded. "Those photographers invaded our privacy. One of them grabbed for him!"

"That's not our concern," the female officer said.

Christine was about to protest again, but Erik stepped forward and held his wrists out, "This is nothing new to me," he muttered. "It will be cleared up shortly. Get in touch with our lawyer, love. The number is in the phonebook in my study."

Christine nodded, then quickly reached into her purse and pulled out a pen and paper. She scribbled down the names and badge numbers on the officers' uniforms as they read Erik his rights and cuffed his hands behind his back before leading him out.

"I'll make sure our lawyer knows who you two are!" She shouted out after the officers.

Christine sunk down in a chair and hung her head when they were gone.

"I could break him free in a snap, if you wish," Loki offered.

"No… no that would make things worse," Christine replied. "We'll have to deal with this the _mortal_ way," she let out a sigh, "but thanks for the offer."

"Understood," Loki replied, then a thought came to him, "By the way… how many CAM songs has Erik written? Enough for an album? I'd consider putting something together while he's… indisposed. It might even sell better now that he's in jail."

Christine could only stare dumbfounded at the thoughtless god.

* * *

**Laramie Dr.**

_I sit before the mirror in my room and note how different I look from what I remember. My ebony hair now has several blonde streaks. Natural streaks, as odd as that is. It is all part of the **other** one - the sickeningly gentle creature who is currently borrowing my body. _

_Unfortunately, merging with him has now made me look like a member of a boy band ._

_Alas, I must admit to SOME improvement – my body is brawnier, and my colour is tanned bronze. I am different enough not to be recognized as who I once was, and that is for the better._

_I suppose I must thank Hades for the opportunity to return. _

_Such a gift comes with a price though, I know this. He has asked for information from above, and I have been giving it to him… but he grows bored and wants more. Now that he is awake, he thinks he deserves the rights to those that death claims._

_I know there is another awoken who has her own world of souls, but she is inconsequential. The souls Hel takes are those that have been claimed by age and disease. She is an ugly thing anyway, and is quite happy with her useless companions in her underworld of ice and snow._

_Hades is smarter. He wants the healthy souls - the young ones taken by violence or recklessness. _

_He has asked for these in return for allowing me to remain here. Should I disappoint, he will rip me from my rightful body. _

_I must admit, though, he is far more accommodating than my **last** master. _

_Therefore, if Hades wishes for souls, I will not deny him. I have several creatures at my beck and call that will gladly give him what he needs, and find themselves well fed in return._

_And here is where my thoughts take a down turn. There is one who can still stop me. The only one who ever **could** stop me. _

_But even **I** know it is useless to try and rid myself of him through others. It has proved unsuccessful time and again. I need to deal with him myself, if only I can control this body long enough to do so._

_Of course, that does not mean I cannot have my fun in sending others to **damage** him to a certain extent. To put him through cruel and unusual punishment. I know he will get out of such situations. He always does, but it is still enjoyable to watch._

_There was once a time I wished him as my ally. Now, however, I only wish him pain and suffering._

_No matter. He will get what is due. I have far more pressing matters at the moment._

_I truly should thank Martine for her excellent skills in reanimating my shell. A shame she did not consider that I would find my way back once she gave it to her new plaything. To think she even tried to exorcise me when she grew suspicious of my presence. _

_She only made things worse: Her spell made me stronger. Allowed me to take control when HE was sleeping._

_I simply need to find a way to make him sleep **permanently**…_

* * *

**54th Precinct – later**

Christine arrived at the police precinct as soon as she could. She immediately went up to the clerk and demanded to see Erik.

"What is the name again?" the clerk asked as he checked the computer.

"Erik Garner. He was arrested a couple of hours ago."

"He may not be in the system yet. I'll call down and see if he was brought in. Who were the officers?"

Christine handed the clerk the names and badge numbers. He looked them up on the computer and furrowed his brow, "I'm sorry, but… these two aren't in our system."

"What do you mean?" Christine asked.

"I mean, there's nothing close to that in our databanks. All our officer IDs are eight numbers long, these are ten." He looked back at Christine, "I'm sorry, ma'am. Whoever took Mr. Garner were not certified officers of the law."

* * *

**Elsewhere**

Erik awoke slowly, his head pounding. His eyes focused on his surroundings.

Bars.

Well, that was to be expected, but not quite like this.

He was in a trailer used for transporting animals, with a large white tarp thrown over it to give a sense of privacy and shade. It did not provide much in the manner of heat, however, being that it was a chilly late January.

He looked down at what he was sitting on – a pile of furs. Matted and smelly, but useful. He tugged one around his shoulders.

Shoulders, he realized, that were bare.

Erik swore under his breath and ran a hand over his face. His _exposed _face. His mask was gone along with his shirt.

That wasn't all, though.

His duster, which held a stake, his rope, and his cell phone, was nowhere in sight. His boots, which he knew could have been used as a weapon, were also gone. He was left with his jeans and nothing more.

At least he wasn't _completely_ exposed.

What had happened? How had he managed to get into this situation? He remembered being led to the patrol car. Then he had noticed that they were heading away from the police precinct.

A car had then come out of nowhere, smashing into the driver's side and sending Erik's head crashing against the bars between the front seat and the back seat.

Two people emerged from the second car. Somewhat woozy, he had not been able to stop the new players from pulling him out of the patrol car. It was too late by the time he realized they had pricked him with something that was making it increasingly hard to keep his wits about him.

His mind grew hazy… and that was the last thing he had remembered.

Now, as the fog in his head lifted, he studied the barred trailer – or was it more of a cage?

There, at the top on the other side was a vent. If he could get to that…

He stood up and walked forward, only to find shackles on his wrists, and chains attached to loops on the bars. The chains were long enough to allow him to traverse most of the cage, but not enough to reach the vent.

He let out an inhuman roar, his fist making contact with the metal bars. It dented the bars somewhat, but also succeeded in sending shooting pain through his hand and arm.

Erik collapsed to his knees, his thoughts going back to another time he had been chained against his will, face and body exposed by those who would make money from his uglyness.

"Awake finally?" a voice spoke as a small corner of the tarp was moved aside to reveal a male he did not recognize. Possibly the one who had crashed into the patrol car. No doubt Erik's first two escorts were dead.

Erik growled at his captor, who put his hands up defensively. "Don't get mad at me. I only work here." He then let the tarp fall back into place and walked off.

* * *

**Populaire – underground dormitories**

"Father?"

Loki winced upon hearing the feminine voice calling to him. Nowhere to hide now. He took a deep breath and turned to her, expecting to be exposed to her horrid half-face once again. It was the thing that had sent him out of her life when she was first born. He couldn't bear to know he had been a part of something like that.

Regardless, he was surprised to see a silver mask covering the rotting side of his daughter's face. "Hel? Now where did you get that?"

"In the…" she stopped to think of the word, "what do they call it? _Prop_ room, yes. There are many interesting things in there." She smiled. Or rather, the visible part of her face did, "Do you like it? Erik suggested I wear it if I wished to walk around in public."

"Erik… the Opera Ghost? You've talked to him?" Loki asked, wondering if his daughter knew where his newest client had disappeared to.

Christine had informed him a few hours ago that the officers who had arrested Erik were not real officers after all and had had no right to take him. The poor girl had been searching desperately for her fiancé with help from the Guild.

"I saw him a few days ago." Hel answered, snapping Loki out of his thoughts. The trickster frowned as he realized his daughter was less useful than he thought. "Oh father…" she twirled around gleefully, her tattered black robes fanning out behind her, "He is so beautiful! I wish to have him for my mate."

"Of course you would find him beautiful," Loki muttered under his breath. "However, he is only mortal… mostly. It would be a pointless joining."

"Mostly?"

"Yes. His father was … well… not exactly _human_. But the opera ghost only has a mortal's life span. Find yourself another to mate with."

She pouted, "But I want _him_…"

Loki let out an irritated sigh, "Hel, did you come here to argue with me? I said NO. Leave me be. I have more important things to concern myself with."

"Father…" she protested.

"GO. NOW!"

Without another word, Hel disappeared.

* * *

**DeChagny-Giry Residence**

"You're free to stay here until Erik comes back, hun. Your old room is still empty." Meg said as Christine informed her of the latest news. "I know that's not overly helpful, but…" she shrugged.

"No no, it'll be fine. I don't want to be alone right now," Christine answered.

"I'm going to make some calls," Raoul said, "We're going to find him."

"Thanks," Christine gave her friends' hands a quick squeeze. "I keep thinking I should have stopped them… somehow…" she said shakily as she ran her fingers through her hair.

"What could you have done, Chrissy?" Raoul asked. "As far as you knew, it was the cops. And he had it coming – the arrest, I mean. Not… whatever it was that DID happen to him."

Christine's cell phone rang and she quickly picked it up, "Hello…. Nadir! Any word?" Christine listened carefully and nodded, "Gotcha! Ok… thanks!" She waited a moment, "No no, of course I wouldn't check it out. I'll leave that up to you guys…. Ok. Bye…"

Christine leaned forward and looked towards Meg and Raoul, "A fake patrol car was found just outside the city. The two fake officers who arrested Erik were dead. Nadir thinks that whoever took him wanted to cover their tracks."

The three exchanged glances, a silent question hanging in the air.

Christine nodded, "Let's go…"

* * *

**Guild Headquarters**

Gus Leroux, head of the Hunter's Guild, flipped through the thick file on his desk. Gods from all mythologies had come to life – or rather, had been awoken.

But that was the least of his concerns.

There were other Guild matters to attend to. His Executioner had gone missing. Not that he had been doing any Executing since settling into his happy new life with his lovely new fiancée.

Regardless, the man was still useful. And there was always the chance of the Executioner returning – especially if something should ever happen to his precious Christine.

Erik had once been gifted with a lack of conscience. Christine had taken that gift from him – had made him _feel_ things.

It had gotten to the point where Gus had resigned himself to hiring hitmen to deal with the threats that the other hunters could not bring themselves to deal with.

It was becoming increasingly expensive.

Gus didn't like unnecessary expenses.

* * *

**Elsewhere**

Raoul, Meg, and Christine walked around the rusty trailers and broken down cars. It was where Nadir had said the patrol car had been found – in a place that looked like it had once been a circus grounds.

The big top tent was weather beaten and torn, the trailers had been dumped as if it were a private junk park.

"Ok, I'm no circus expert here," Meg began, "But you'd think they'd take all their stuff with them when they went travelling."

"They could have gone out of business," Raoul offered.

"Maybe," Christine replied, "But then wouldn't they sell their stuff instead of just up and abandoning it? I mean, if it was in good shape at the time, they could have gotten something for it."

"IF it was in good shape." Meg stressed. Christine nodded, knowing her friend had a point.

"So, we found the location. Now where's the living corpse?" Raoul asked, then let out a sharp laugh, "Fitting that he'd end up here." Christine turned to glare at Raoul, arms crossed. He quickly paled, "Well… not that fitting… erm…it's… horrible, actually. Really horrible…" he cleared his throat.

"Let's split up," Christine decided. "We'll cover more ground that way."

"Keep in touch, though," Meg replied, holding up her cell. Christine nodded and the three headed their separate ways.

* * *

After what seemed like half an hour of searching, Meg found a trailer that did not seem entirely abandoned. She heard sounds coming from inside, and pressed herself closer to a window to hear the voices speaking. 

She couldn't make out everything, but several words stood out – _Freak. Cage. Boss. Payment._

It didn't take too long to figure out what it all meant.

Meg quickly headed away from the trailer and found a place where she could call Christine in private. The signal was weak and she opted to write a quick text message instead. Once it went through, she let out a relieved breath, then turned and headed back to the trailer, hoping to find out more information.

Unfortunately, she only found the inhabitant of the trailer sitting outside staring at her.

"Caught another, Jenna," he called out, grabbing Meg by the arm and dragging her inside.

A woman sat at the bare wooden table playing with the gun in her hand. Off to the right, sitting on the floor, back against the wall, Meg saw… "Raoul!"

"Meggy? You too?"

"Glad you two know each other. Sit." The man shoved Meg on the floor beside Raoul. "How many more of you are there?" he demanded as his female friend – Jenna, Meg recalled - trained her gun on them.

"Just us." Meg replied, catching Erik's duster hanging on a hook out of the corner of her eye. She knew what Erik kept in there. Perhaps if she could get to it…

"Do you know who I am?" Raoul demanded, interrupting Meg's thoughts. "Do you know how much trouble you're going to be in when my brother finds out what you've done?"

"Ray!" Meg elbowed Raoul in the ribs.

"Is your brother someone important?" Jenna asked, obviously bored with Raoul's boasting.

"Ray… DON'T!" Meg warned.

"Philip DeChagny," Raoul replied. "And when he finds out-"

"So you're a rich boy." The man smirked at his friend, "A VERY rich boy. This plan is going to turn out better than we thought,"

"Was stealing a masked man part of your plan?" Meg asked with a frown.

"Damn, don't tell me you're friends of his," Jenna replied.

"Well…" Raoul shrugged, "Maybe _friend_ is too strong a word." This earned him another jab in the ribs from the girl beside him.

Jenna glanced at her companion, "Great. Like we need the trouble?"

Meg laughed, "C'mon, you kidnapped Erik Garner. That's ASKING for trouble. What did you do, drug him so he wouldn't fight back?"

"Mike and I did what we were told to do," Jenna replied. She then turned to her companion. "Take a look around and make sure there isn't _anyone else_ here. And bring the corpse something to eat. Can't have him actually DYING on us now."

"Yeah yeah," Mike muttered. He disappeared into the back of the trailer for a few minutes and returned with a wrapped up sandwich, quickly heading out to see his prisoner.

* * *

Christine picked up the text message on her phone and began to respond. However, before she could send, a voice filled her ears. A beautiful, heavenly voice. 

"_Sing what you can't say, Forget what you can't play, Hasten to drown into beautiful eyes…_"

Christine heard the singing and knew only one person who could _have_ such a voice. She followed it, begging to find who she was looking for. Soon, she came upon a large tarp-covered shape several feet in front of her. The voice grew louder as she moved towards it.

Erik was in there, singing to himself. There was no question about it.

She cried out as a strong burly arm grabbed her and pulled her towards the tarp, the singing stopping immediately.

"Did you come here to see the freak?" Mike asked as he pulled the tarp away only to reveal Erik hunched in a corner of the caged trailer, covered in furs to keep warm, his face fully exposed. "Ugly bastard, isn't he?"

Christine said nothing.

"Want a better look?" he grabbed her cell phone and her purse, then tugged off her down jacket, causing her to shiver in the cold. He pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the cage door and shoved Christine in, handing her the sandwich. "You can share this. Hope you like him. He might wanna snuggle to keep warm." The man then laughed, "He might want to do other things too. I don't think he's ever gotten all that close to a woman." He shut the door and locked it once more before he dropped the tarp back down and walked away.

Chrisitne looked over at Erik, his golden eyes focusing on her with obvious disapproval, "Hi… honey," she began sheepishly.

"Christine…" Erik replied softly.

"I'm so glad you're ok!" She headed towards him but the look on his face stopped her in her tracks.

"Christine… angel…" Erik's voice grew low and angry. "What the hell are you doing here?"

**END OF EPISODE 11**


	12. Episode 12

**_A/N: Thanks to my beta, Olethros_**

* * *

**Erik: the Vampire Hunter - The Continuing Adventures **

**Episode 12**

By: Elektra

"What the hell are you doing here?" Erik demanded from his place on the ground. He was surrounded by furs and blankets to fight off the winter chill in his current place of residence – a barred trailer covered by a white tarp. Not exactly home.

Christine went over and knelt in front of him, hugging herself now that her coat had been taken from her, "I… I was worried. I … I found out the cops weren't really cops and-"

"Yes, I have figured that out myself!" he interrupted. "I did not need to worry about YOU as well!"

"I'm sorry. I… I just thought-t-t…" Christine tried to explain through chattering teeth, "Thought I… I could rescue y-y-you one day, instead of you always-"

Erik suddenly grabbed Christine and tugged her down next to him, pulling the furs over their bodies from head to toe, protecting them from the chill.

It was rather cozy.

"Where are your clothes?" she asked softly as she rested a hand against his bare chest

"Who knows," he replied. "They saw fit to remove them from my person… but they did allow me to keep my modesty," he muttered, referring to the only thing _left_ on his person – his jeans.

She trailed her fingers over the shackles on his wrist. "God, I hate this. It's so wrong! Especially after-" she stopped, not wanting to bring up his unpleasant childhood.

"I doubt they knew of my past."

"No… I guess not," she replied, then her voice grew quieter. "Erik, how angry are you at me for going after you?"

"Quite angry indeed! You have put yourself in harm's way!"

"I'm sorry, I just… " she reached out to caress his distorted features, "I don't know what I would do without you."

Erik was silent as he met her lovely blue eyes. For the first time, he could see how much Christine _needed_ him. No one had _ever_ needed him. Yes, the Guild needed Erik's skills, his strength, his lack of conscience… but they could have cared less about HIM.

Erik wrapped his arms tightly around Christine and tucked her head beneath his chin. "I would have found my _own_ way home. I am no stranger to such situations." Christine said nothing as she snuggled in as close as possible, their body heat keeping each other warmer than the furs alone.

Erik closed his eyes and released a deep breath, burying his face in her hair. _Sweet Christine, your Erik will** always** find his way home… _

* * *

**The Next Morning**

"You just had to go tell them who you were..." Meg muttered as one of their captors disappeared to another section of the trailer.

"I thought it would help!" Raoul replied.

"Yeah. Lots of help that was! Phil probably got the ransom call by now!"

"Oh will you two stop!" Jenna demanded as she glared at the two in front of her. "I'm actually GLAD your boyfriend told us his name," she smiled. "Gives us more money to play with."

She stood up and headed to the back room, propping the door open as she put together something to eat. "I'm watching you," she called out through the doorway. "Don't try anything funny,"

Meg kept her eye on the woman, as her back turned to them for a moment.

Raoul quickly crawled over to the table, glancing back to make sure his movements were not noticed. He reached up and grabbed his Blackberry, typing something in quickly before he returned it to the table and rejoined Meg. It was not a moment too soon as Jenna turned back around to keep her keen eyes on them.

Meg leaned closer to Raoul, her voice a whisper, "What did you do?"

"I sent our location to Phil," he replied.

"What if he doesn't get it?"

Raoul smiled, "He's a business man, Meggy. He has his Blackberry on him twenty-four/seven,"

Meg relaxed, resting her head against his shoulder as she entwined her fingers with his.

* * *

Christine opened her eyes and smiled sleepily at the man laying beside her. When her eyes focused on her surroundings, however, she realized this was not the bedroom she shared with Erik. 

In fact, they were not even in a bed. They were on a pile of blankets and matted furs – surrounded by bars.

"Quick," Erik spoke up. "Move to the other side of the cage."

"What? Why?"

"Someone is coming. The last thing they need to know is the nature of our relationship."

Christine frowned, "Well why not!"

Erik took a deep breath, "Trust me."

Christine quickly did as he requested.

As Erik had predicted, Mike returned. He unlocked the door and walked in, smiling at the scene before him – Christine cowering from the living corpse on the other side of the cage. He crouched in front of Erik. "So, did you like your company? Shame she wouldn't let a freak touch her-"

Mike's words were choked off as Erik shot a hand out and wrapped it around his throat. His face remained stony as he squeezed harder.

Erik ripped the keys from the man's hands before tossing him aside as if he were garbage. Unlocking his shackles, he quickly jumped back to his feet and pulled the man up by his shirt.

"A FREAK you say?" Erik demanded, punching the man square in the jaw, "I much prefer the term MONSTER!" he smashed Mike against the bars. "I am, after all, not quite HUMAN!" Another punch bloodied the man's face as Erik hit him repeatedly, ignoring the red mess staining his hands.

He could have killed this man so very easily. Take out his anger on all those who had made his life a living Hell, take his revenge on the boys who had tied him up when he was a child…

"Erik!" Christine's voice broke through his red haze. "Stop!"

He turned his head to see her standing a few feet away, looking at him with fear in her eyes.

Erik threw Mike to the ground, ignoring the man who was now writhing on the cold floor and gasping for breath.

"Come," he ordered Christine, who looked away from the bloodied man as she followed behind Erik. He grabbed two of the bigger furs and stepped out of the cage before locking his captor inside. "We need to find the rest of my clothing."

"And Raoul and Meg," Christine replied as she took one of the furs from him and wrapped it around herself.

Erik turned to her, "_They_ are here too?" He swore under his breath and started to walk on.

Christine grasped his shoulder. "Are you ok?" she asked.

"Why wouldn't I be?" he snapped, not in the mood for her coddling him at the moment. She simply looked down at his hands. Erik followed her gaze, "It's not mine," he explained of the red wetness on his deathly pale skin. He shrugged his shoulder away from her hand and wiped the bloody mess on his jeans.

"I know it's not," she replied softly, "That's why I was asking." She glanced away, "I saw the look in your eyes, Erik. It was only a moment, but I saw it. You wanted to kill him for everything anyone has ever done to you."

"Can you blame me?"

Christine took a deep breath and reached for him again. He moved out of her grasp, not wanting to be touched at the moment.

"I get it, I do." Christine continued as she twined her fingers together and followed along behind him. "I just wish I could make it all go away. All the bad memories, all… all the anger…"

Erik halted and turned to her, "You can't _heal_ me, Christine. I have told you that before." He then slowly reached out to touch her face, but stopped when he saw his stained hand. He quickly pulled it back, hiding it beneath the fur cloak wrapped around him. "You _can_, however, temper me. Stop me from losing control." He glanced away, his voice growing softer, "You are very good at that."

Christine nodded, then reached out and slid her arms around him. After some hesitation, he slowly returned the embrace, careful not to let his hands touch her.

"We should find your friends." Erik continued quietly.

"_Your_ friends too,"

"That is debatable," he muttered.

* * *

The sound of a police siren filled Meg and Raoul's ears. "Looks like Phil got my message," Raoul whispered. 

Jenna looked nervous, "What did you do?" she demanded. "How did you get them here!" She jumped to her feet, waving the pistol at Meg and Raoul, "Where's Mike? Did the cops get him?"

"No. _I_ did," a voice interrupted.

Jenna turned around, and froze at the creature that stood before her. "What the hell?" she gasped, the gun shaking in her hand.

Before she could pull the trigger, Erik rushed towards her and planted a fist against her temple, knocking the woman out cold. He then turned to Meg and Raoul and noticed the two of them trying to divert their eyes from his face without making their aversion obvious.

"Forgive me," he frowned, "I was unable to find a maskwhile I was locked up in a CAGE!" He eyed his duster, mask, and the rest of his clothing hanging on a hook. He ignored their muttered apologies and quickly covered his face. He then tugged on the rest of his clothing and led the group out towards the police cars.

_Real_ police cars this time.

Everyone was highly relieved, but Erik's mind was plagued with questions - who had been behind this and why?

When he found out, the person would be very sorry.

"Erik?"

Erik turned around to see Nadir running out of one of the cars, Madeline following close behind.

For a moment, it looked like the relieved woman wanted to hug her son, but she hesitated, letting her arms drop to her side in defeat. "Erik… honey, are you ok?" Madeline asked worriedly. "Did they hurt you?" She let her eyes fall to his hands, still stained red from his attack on Mike. Erik immediately shoved them in his pockets.

_Why are you playing concerned mother NOW? _"I am fine, Madeline," he answered aloud. _I beat a man to a bloody pulp and would have killed him if not for Christine, but aside from that, all is well…_ he thought darkly. He turned his attention on Nadir, "Near the middle of the grounds is a large tarp-covered cage. You will find a man there that will need medical attention."

Nadir simply nodded and headed off, leaving Madeline looking at Erik, and at the pockets of his duster where he had hidden his hands. She could say nothing, however, as she had once fired a gun that helped result in another human's death.

Then again, her ex-lover had not been human after all, had he?

Christine came up to Erik and hugged his arm, having found her stolen jacket and cell phone. She looked up at him, her voice quiet. "Can we go home now?" Erik nodded, and Christine turned her attention to Madeline, "Do you want to come over for supper? It won't be anything fancy. Just delivery." Christine heard a low growl emerge from Erik's throat and glanced up at him before turning back to Madeline, making sure Erik heard her next words. "I'm sure you were as worried about your son as I was."

Madeline nodded, "Nadir and I didn't know if he was all right, and the two people who took him were dead and…" she stopped and shook her head, deciding not to dwell on it. "And yes… I would love to join you for supper."

Christine smiled and turned to see Meg and Raoul a few feet away with a relieved Philip, who was currently playing mother hen to his little brother. "Pizza at my place, guys?" She called out. Meg and Raoul nodded gladly, happy to be safe and sound. Philip shook his head, declining the invitation. Christine wasn't surprised.

Once Nadir returned with the beaten kidnapper in tow, he handed the man over to the authorities and joined the group for dinner.

* * *

**Populaire - The next day**

"What do you know about this!" Erik demanded, tossing the Daily News at his new 'manager'. Loki skimmed through the paper. It wasn't exactly front page, but Erik's abduction had certainly been mentioned.

Unfortunately, things had not exactly gone as planned.

When Loki had hired the two men to impersonate police officers and arrest Erik, he had simply done it to gain public sympathy (Mr. Lowell Key would spin the assault in such a way that CAM's fans would fully understand his reasons for lashing out.) and to keep the photographers that Erik had assaulted happy.

The plan was to get the world to believe CAM _had_ been legitimately arrested. Erik was to be 'released' on his own recognizance within a few hours, then all would be well. None of the photographers had dared to press charges yet. This was supposed to help avoid such a situation.

Loki had not realized, however, that someone would KILL his hired help and take Erik for their own.

Not that Loki was overly surprised, though. The Guild certainly had angered several otherworldly creatures, and Erik's position as the top Hunter and only Executioner was bound to have made him some enemies. Was it the trickster's fault that someone else had taken advantage of his brilliant plan? Not that he would ever _tell_ Erik this, of course. Immortal though he was, Loki would rather not be hung from the rafters for all eternity.

"Well, publicity is always good, Mr. Ghost," he said to the masked man standing behind him as he folded the paper up once again.

"I hired you to keep the press OFF my back!" Erik growled.

"Ah, but they have not been … _on_ your back, have they? No one has hounded you for interviews or any such thing." Loki turned back to Erik, holding up the paper. "I will help you find out who abducted you, lest they try again," he promised. After all, he could not have people undermining his publicity stunts and locking up his meal ticket every other day.

"Now," Loki's tone changed, suggesting he wanted to talk business, "About those photos I wanted you to take…"

* * *

**Daaé-Garner Residence – the next night**

Erik stood in front of the full length mirror in the bedroom – a mirror Christine had insisted on getting. He would have preferred not to have any reflective surfaces near him, but alas… she had won out. His fiancée had some rather _creative_ ways to convince him to do things he would not normally do. He had never thought he'd have the pleasure of such a weakness.

Erik studied his reflection carefully and frowned, unimpressed with what he saw.

"For all Loki's spying, he has obviously not taken a very good look at me," Erik tugged off his shirt and turned around, craning his neck over his shoulder to take in the reflection of raised scars crisscrossing his back. "What woman would want photos of this?"

Christine smiled as she leaned back on the bed, "_I'd_ like photos. Lots and lots of them."

Erik looked at her, "We have already established that you are an angel, thus far more accepting of things than most humans would be."

Christine laughed in response, "C'mon, you're in good shape-"

"…with the face and complexion of a corpse?" he interrupted, "Very _attractive_," he muttered as he held out one arm, the faint traces of blue noticeable beneath his pale skin. "Would you believe my pallor is pastier than the creatures I have dusted?" he asked. "And THEY are _actually_ dead." He let out a derisive snort, "As if the mask isn't bad enough,"

Christine slid to the edge of the bed and pat the place beside her, "C'mere, my pasty corpse."

With a sigh, he sat down beside her.

Christine hugged his arm, "Look, you're no Johnny Depp," she said, "But if you take the pictures like Loki suggested, I'm pretty sure most people won't care about the mask, or the… _pastyness_."

She let out a startled yelp as Erik suddenly pressed her to the bed and slid over her, "And did _you_ never care about the mask?" He asked softly. "At first, when you did not know what lay beyond it? Then later, when you finally DID find out?"

"Yes. I cared. At first I was curious, then when I found out, I was… startled … by it," Christine slid the mask off and let it fall to the floor. "I got over it." She tangled her fingers in his hair and brought his mouth down for a deep kiss. "But I get your point. I still think the photos are a good idea though."

He gently stroked her face, "And _I_ still think you are the _only_ woman who will ever have an attraction to me, regardless of such photos."

"So that's why you want to marry me," she pouted.

He met her eyes, his tone growing serious, "I love you far more than I will ever be able to put into words. THAT is the reason I wish to marry you."

She raised an eyebrow, "Go on."

"My sweet Christine – should I list everything?"

Christine smiled, "I have all night…"

* * *

**66 Laramie Dr.**

Martine stepped into the living room only to see Oren sitting with his back to her. Something seemed _off_. Unsettling. "Oren?" she asked gently, "Are you okay?"

"What did you do to my body?" He asked quietly.

Martine furrowed her brow, wondering at the sudden question, "I GAVE you a body, I did nothing to it."

"Oh, Martine…" Oren sighed, then turned to face her. "You certainly did _something_ to my body. You took it without permission. You used it as a vessel for someone else!"

Martine stumbled backwards once she saw the coldness in his eyes. Eyes that were pure gold now, no longer green with golden flecks.

"You're dead!" she gasped out. "We KILLED you!"

"WE?" he repeated. "Yes, it _did_ take three people, didn't it?" He stepped closer. "I wasn't even dead. Not really. Just… bodiless. That was no fun."

Martin swallowed nervously, racking her brain for a spell to keep him at bay. "Where's Oren?"

"Sleeping," he answered. "Now tell me, does it seem fair to you that I can only control MY body when HE is sleeping?"

"OREN?" Martine called out. "Wake up! Hear me and wake up! Please?"

His smile was cold, his fingers clenched around something sharp and wooden as he continued to make his way towards her. "I want to hear you cry, Martine. Plead for mercy! Beg for forgiveness, like the mortal vermin you are!"

"Orpheus!" Martine called out once more, but it was futile.

Nothing could help her now.

**END OF EPISODE 12**


	13. Episode 13

**_A/N: Thanks to my beta, _****_Olethros_**

* * *

**Erik: the Vampire Hunter - The Continuing Adventures **

**Episode 13**

By: Elektra

**66 Laramie Dr.**

Orpheus sat on the floor, rocking back and forth on his heels as he stared at the wooden stake in his hands. The wood was wet. Just like the carpet all around him.

Both were tainted red.

He dropped the stake as if it burned him.

"What did I do?" he whispered as he held up a stained hand. "What…" he glanced over to the unmoving form beside him. "Ms. Martine?" he called softly. "I'm awake, Ms. Martine. I heard you calling…"

Martine wasn't moving.

Oren's breathing grew rapid and shallow. "Please, Ms. Martine. Please sit up. Don't lie on the wet carpet, you'll get cold." His voice became a small squeak, "Ms. Martine? Please…" He studied the woman carefully. Her face was slicked with scarlet liquid, her normally mocha skin now alabaster white. The large gaping hole in her chest did not belong there.

Oren's eyes fell upon the wooden stake once again.

Grief consumed him, a musical cry ripping from his golden throat.

It was a cry that could wake the dead…

* * *

**Daaé-Garner Residence**

Christine opened her eyes and saw nothing but darkness, though she could have sworn she had put the nightlight on before she went to bed. Even at age twenty-two, she still had not gotten over her childish fear of the dark. If the nightlight was off, however, that meant Erik had finally come to bed.

Christine relaxed. The dark always seemed _safe_ when he slept beside her.

It had, unfortunately, been over a week since he had done so. He had been composing obsessively the last several days. She had barely seen him.

Christine slowly reached a hand out, feeling his lean torso. She trailed her way down over his abdomen and frowned at the light outline of ribs beneath her fingers. She let out a sigh of disapproval - her fiancé never bothered to eat regularly when he was busy being creative. She knew if Erik did not keep up his physical activities or regular meals, he could easily revert to the bony skelton he had been as a child. She did not want that for him.

_I'm going to buy him a Big Mac tomorrow and make sure he eats the entire thing! _Christine decided as she rested her head on Erik's shoulder.

She closed her eyes, glad to have Erik to snuggle against tonight. It had taken far too long for him to get comfortable with ANY kind of physical contact, and she did not appreciate going without it for a week.

Her eyes opened as Erik's body shifted. He gathered her against him and she welcomed the feel of his cool lips brushing her warm skin as they trailed their way up her neck.

"Sweet Christine," he murmured against her ear, "will you forgive me for my disappearance this week?"

"Why should I?" She feigned a pout, knowing he could see it in the dark.

"Because Erik promises to make up for it…" he replied. "… in many different ways…"

Christine's skin tingled at his words. He was using _that_ voice again – the voice that set her blood on fire and made her body ache. It was his way of seducing her as, he had often said, he could not seduce her with his _looks_.

Regardless, Erik certainly knew how to use what he _did _have - such as the graceful hands that were currently caressing her. Christine looked up into his golden eyes, faintly glowing in the dark room. He took the silent invitation and slid his mouth over hers.

Before either of them could carry things further, however, the phone rang.

Erik's head shot up to look at the clock on his night table - 2 am. "What the hell?" he growled.

Christine shouted out a week's worth of frustrations and quickly grabbed the phone beside her, unintentionally snapping at the person who had dared interrupt them. "What?"

The voice on the other line immediately caught her attention, concern taking over.

"Oren!" she gasped, "What's wrong?" She glanced at Erik, then turned back to the phone, "Wait, calm down. What happened? Who's hurt? Oren… I can't understand you if you're freaking out! … Martine? Something happened to Martine? … Blood? Oh God… okay… call 911 and tell them you need an ambulance. Erik and I will be there as soon as possible. Call 911 NOW, Oren! Hang up with me! We'll be there soon, okay? Bye…"

Erik was on alert. "What happened?"

"We're needed at 66 Laramie Drive," Christine sighed. "I'll explain on the way."

Erik jumped out of bed, his Hunter instincts kicking in as he quickly set about preparing for whatever was waiting at a house to which he had hoped never to return.

* * *

**Laramie Drive - later**

Erik and Christine stood off to the side of Shay's former residence on Laramie drive. Erik had left his bike down the road and they had walked silently the rest of the way.

"Why are we lurking?" She asked as the two watched the police scour the house and street, looking for what could have happened to the woman who had resided there. The ambulance had left some time ago, leaving the others to investigate the crime scene.

"Because we cannot exactly go up to them at this time of night in the middle of a crime scene and say 'hello,'" Erik replied. "It would make us somewhat suspicious."

Christine wrung her hands, knowing he was right, "Where's Oren?"

"If Orpheus is smart, he is hiding. If he is unlucky, he is already behind bars."

"Well, he can just tell them what happened…"

Erik let out a harsh laugh, "Tell them _what_? That he suddenly woke up with a bloody weapon in his hand and a critically wounded woman on the floor beside him? That would go over well."

Christine bit her lower lip nervously, "He's going to be in trouble, isn't he?" she asked.

"I do not see how he could get OUT of trouble,"

Christine nodded. What _had_ happened to Oren? What had caused his blackout?

"Come," Erik held a hand out to her, "There is nothing more to see here."

She entwined her fingers with his. "He's not used to any of this. He… he seems like a lost child, you know? Probably scared out of his mind."

"Well, we can do nothing to help him right now. If the police have him, so be it. I will find out in the morning. He will be fine until then."

Christine nodded hesitantly and followed Erik back down the road.

* * *

**Daaé-Garner Residence - an hour later**

"Ms. Christine?"

Christine jumped at the voice as she slid off Erik's bike. She spun around to see a nervous shape moving behind a large tree on the front lawn.

"Why are you _here_, Orpheus?" Erik demanded as he tugged off his helmet.

Oren stepped forward, hugging himself, "I did not know where else to go. I thought… well… Ms. Christine has been so nice to me, maybe …" he glanced away.

Christine let out a soft sigh, "Do you want to stay here?" she asked. "Until we can figure out what's going on?"

Erik let out a harsh laugh, "Oh yes, that's brilliant! Let us allow a murderer to hide in our home!" Christine glanced at Erik, raising an eyebrow to remind her fiancé that he wasn't innocent himself.

"She's not dead!" Oren replied. "And I had nothing to do with it, I swear! I had no idea… I … I just woke up and… and there was this big mess…" He buried his head in his hands, his voice frightened, "I don't remember anything!"

"Erik, if something IS messing with him, wouldn't it be better to watch him?" Christine asked.

Erik narrowed his golden eyes, focusing on the whimpering boy a few feet away, "Tell me, Orpheus, do you know whose body Martine gave you?"

Oren looked as if his big secret had just been revealed.

"Come now," Erik continued, "Did you think me a fool? I have grown familiar with the stories. You were nothing more than a decapitated head when our resident vodooun priestess found you. She is no stranger to raising bodies from the dead. YOU did not have a body to raise, so surely she had to have _found_ one somewhere…"

Oren's green-gold eyes darted fearfully back and forth between Erik and Christine. "I don't know," he said finally. I asked Ms. Martine myself, but she never told me…"

"Crash with us tonight," Christine decided. "We'll try and figure this all out in the morning."

Oren nodded and followed the two inside.

* * *

**McNeil Hospital **

_I can't move. Why can't I move? I cannot open my eyes. I hear voices. A coma? Is that my current state? The pain in my chest is strange. The voices again. Something about emergency surgery? Critical condition? _

_Where is Oren? I heard him cry out in that beautiful voice before the blackness could completely consume me. He brought me back… I think. At least, I know I am not dead._

_I remember what happened. Poor Oren had no control over HIM._

_I remember the way HE looked at me before HE impaled me with that stake. HIS eyes. Those demon eyes. So different than my innocent, naïve Oren. I will never forget those eyes. I never HAVE forgotten them. _

_HE is back._

* * *

**Daaé-Garner Residence**

"I hope Oren will be okay," Christine sighed as she and Erik dressed for bed.

Erik gently tugged Christine onto his lap. "You care about people far too much," he chided.

She shrugged, "It's my nature."

"I know," he slid a hand up her neck and brushed his fingers against her jaw, "It is something I have great difficulty in doing."

"You care about _me_," she pointed out.

"_Only_ you," he answered. "Everyone else can go to Hell."

Christine tsked in response, sliding her hands up his arms to rest on his shoulders, "I don't believe that. You care about Madame Giry and Meg, Nadir, and even your mom - though you'll never admit it." She furrowed her brow, "I still can't figure out if you care about Raoul."

"Hardly," he grumbled.

Christine laughed at that, then kissed him gently. It was meant to be simple and chaste, but soon turned into far more as her thoughts went back to the previous night, and the unfortunate interruption.

Erik tugged his mask off and tossed it on the chair with his shirt, then immediately lowered Christine to the mattress, sliding atop her petite form as he kissed her once again.Christine responded eagerly as his hands slowly trailed their way up her thighs to tug at her bikini briefs.

"Ms. Christine!"

Erik froze.

"Mr. Erik?" There was a hard knock on the bedroom door, "May I… may I speak with you?"

Christine let out a cry of disappointment, her body raging against yet another interruption.

"I do not care what is screwing with his head, I will KILL him first!" Erik growled. He shoved himself to his feet and spewed forth a string of swear words that would make a sailor blush, then walked – awkwardly – into the en suite and slammed the door behind him.

Seconds later, Christine heard the shower running. The water was ice cold, no doubt…

She quickly grabbed her robe and wrapped it around her. With a sigh, she glanced in the mirror and arranged her hair to cover the amorous marks Erik had made on her neck.

"Ms. Christine? Mr. Erik?"

Christine opened the door to see Oren standing shyly, hands clasped, his face fearful. "Did… did I wake you?"

"Sleep was the last thing from our minds…" Christine muttered, moving to allow Oren in. Of course, the man had no idea _what_ he had interrupted.

He looked around, "Where is Mr. Erik?"

"In the shower," Christine answered. _And I wish I was with him…_ "He'll be done in a moment." She said aloud, then sat on her bed, offering Oren the chair beside her night stand.

Oren did so and waited nervously for Erik to come out. It was a few minutes later when he finally emerged, glaring at Oren before sitting beside Christine.

Unfortunately, he had not brought a mask into the bathroom with him. Oren couldn't help but stare in wide-eyed horror as he saw, for the first time, what Erik usually kept hidden.

"What do you want, Orpheus?" Erik demanded angrily as he sat beside Christine, who took Erik's hand on instinct.

Oren blinked quickly as he tried not to look at the skeletal face before him. "I… I wanted to know if I could see Martine. I'm worried about her,"

Erik let out a harsh laugh, "The moment _you_ show up there, the police will take you! Whether you remember what happened or not, YOU are the prime suspect."

"We can go check on her tomorrow," Christine offered. "And let you know what's going on."

"Yes …" Oren replied. "I need to know _everything_."

Christine studied Oren for a moment. The way he had said that sounded almost menacing. "Are you okay?"

"Oh… yes… yes, I'm fine, Ms. Christine," Oren replied, his tone normal once again.

Erik still seemed suspicious, but continued, "Of course, since you are in hiding, you will not be able to perform at the Populaire. You understand, yes?"

Oren seemed rather upset at that bit of news, "But… we're starting a new opera and my understudy quit due to personal reasons!"

"Which would be?" Erik asked.

"He's afraid of the opera ghost…" Oren answered meekly.

Erik and Christine exchanged glances. "Erik?" Christine started ,"You've been watching rehearsals-"

"-and I know the opera by heart. Yes, I figured you would mention that," Erik muttered.

"It would be great publicity for the theatre. I mean, CAM performing live? And you have a mask that's close enough to your skin tone so it wouldn't be so obvious on stage." She smiled mischeviously, "And I hear the lead soprano plans to go home with you afterwards."

Before Erik could respond, Oren spoke up. "But… my part, Mr. Erik. It's… very difficult."

"I can handle your part quite well!" Erik snapped.

"I… I suppose there is no other choice," Oren answered hesitantly. "Thank you again for your help." He seemed at a loss for a moment, then stood up. "Please, let me know about Martine as soon as you can." Christine nodded and Oren headed out of the room, leaving the two alone once again.

Unfortunately, to continue where they had left off was now futile.

* * *

**The Populaire **

The buzz at the theatre was centered around Oren's sudden disappearance. No one knew the connection between the lead tenor and the woman who was brutally attacked in her home two nights ago, but that did not stop rumours from circulating.

In the meantime, Loki had taken it upon himself to use Erik's temporary on-stage position to build PR for CAM. He even went so far as to suggest Erik sit for interviews with various newspapers and magazines. Erik had adamantly refused.

"You are making my job very hard, Mr. Ghost!" Loki complained as the two sat in the dressing room. "How am I supposed to manage your career if you refuse to do anything?"

"I have a career," Erik replied. "CAM is only a hobby. I hired you to keep me from the public spotlight, not toss me _into_ it!"

"It doesn't quite work that way," Loki muttered. "The managers are asking _Lowell Key_ to convince his client to help promote the upcoming performances!"

"André and Firmin know better than to ask anyone to convince me of anything."

Loki studied the masked man. "Perhaps _they_ cannot convince you, but I do know a lovely young woman who _can_. Must I bring her into this?"

"Last I checked, Christine had her OWN interviews to deal with. She does not need to worry about _mine_. Let her mention me if she wishes, but I will not sit for a journalist who will ask questions I do not want to answer."

Loki sighed, "It is times like this I wish Oren Pheryus had not fired me. At least _he_ was willing to promote himself." He then frowned. "Speaking of which, where is he? Why did he disappear and leave you to fill in?"

"Ah, more questions I do not want to answer," Erik replied. "Do not concern yourself with Orpheus. I assure you he has not concerned himself with _you_."

"No, I don't imagine he would. Did you figure out why he has been acting so strange?"

Erik studied the trickster, "Why are you so interested?"

"Well," Loki shrugged, "It's only because his mood changes were… erratic. I would say it was a kind of possession. Either way, I do not want him coming after _me_." He glanced around nervously. "Would you protect me if he did?"

Erik simply looked at the creature before him, and wondered what could possibly make an immortal so in fear for his life.

* * *

**Guild Headquarters – the next day**

Gus Leroux flipped through the report Erik handed him. It held all the information regarding the recent incident with Orpheus and Martine.

"So he truly does not remember?" He asked.

Erik shook his head, "Not a thing. And Martine is in a coma, so she is of no use."

"And he's still at your house?" Leroux asked.

Erik nodded, "Yes, but I would rather someone take him off my hands. Christine and I have far better things to do than babysit Orpheus!"

"Well, someone should keep an eye on him in case he has another 'blackout'. I cannot think of anyone better than _you_." Leroux replied simply. "And if worse comes to worse, you can do what must be done."

"I told you I have resigned as the _Exceutioner_!" Erik snapped angrily. "Do not put me in such a position again."

"At times, such a position is unavoidable." Leroux answered. "Think about this – doesn't it seem odd that during his 'blackout', Orpheus attacked Martine with a stake? It speaks to something personal. Whoever… or _whatever_… is doing this seems to be leaving the Guild a very clear message."

Erik considered this. Annoyed with having to deal with a frightened Orpheus for the last few days, Erik had not stopped to think of the possibility that the attack upon Martine could have had a deeper meaning.

He made a mental list of inventory in his head:

_Weapon: stake_

_Victim: Martine _

There was method to this madness. Both were connected to the Guild. So what was Erik missing?

Perhaps it _would_ be better to keep Orpheus close to him.

* * *

**McNeil Hospital**

_HE is here. _

_I may not be able to open my eyes or move, but that does not mean I cannot sense him. That does not mean I cannot hear him._

_"Oh Martine…" HE begins with a sigh, "What a mess you've gotten yourself into." HE continues to speak to me. Taunt me. Torture me with HIS presence._

_How did HE get here? How did HE get by those I know stand at the door? Why am I even asking such questions? A creature such as HIM can do what he pleases. HE is that powerful._

_And we are all doomed._

**END OF EPISODE 13**


	14. Episode 14

**_A/N: Thanks to my beta, Olethros_**

* * *

**Erik: the Vampire Hunter - The Continuing Adventures **

**Episode 14**

By: Elektra

**Daaé-Garner Residence**

_Disgusting _...

It was the first word that came to mind as Loki looked upon the golden-haired female currently sleeping atop the male corpse. He knew the look on her face for he had seen it upon the faces of his many lovers.

_How could any beautiful woman have sexual desires for… **that**? I wonder what would happen if someone took a picture of this and released it to the papers. I can see the headlines now: **Opera Diva's Unnatural Urges Revealed**._

_She should, at least, place a mask on his - can you even call it a face? - when bedding him. _

He shuddered at the thought. _That she even let that thing-- _

"LOKI!"

The fiery-haired trickster jumped – or rather, hit his head against the ceiling, as he levitated a bit too close to it – when the corpse's angry golden eyes focused on him.

The aforementioned Diva awoke with a start, "Erik? Wha… LOKI!" Christine quickly rolled off Erik and hugged the sheets to her chest as she stared nervously at the intruder. "What are you doing here?"

"He wishes to be strangled, apparently!" Erik growled as he jumped to his feet, not caring about his lack of clothing.

"Now now!" Loki began defensively, hovering just out of Erik's reach. "I have a reason for being here. I needed to talk to you."

"And it could not wait until morning?" Erik demanded.

"Probably, but I was bored." He tossed something to the floor at Erik's feet and turned away, "Please, put some clothes on, Mr. Ghost. Your cadaver-like body is making me rather ill."

"There's nothing wrong with his body," Christine sniffed as she clasped the sheets tighter to her chest and leaned off the bed to grab her robe from the floor.

Swearing under his breath, Erik tugged on his sleep shorts and picked up the sheaf of stapled papers the trickster had tossed on the ground. "Tell me what this is about."

"It is CAM's itinerary." Loki explained. "You DID promise to take those pictures, and… well, I have arranged a photo shoot out of town. I wanted to make use of various sites to add atmosphere. We leave tomorrow afternoon."

"First," Erik snapped, "I do not recall _promising_ to take these photos, only that I would think about it. Second – we cannot leave at the moment. We are performing three shows this week. Perhaps next week."

Loki glanced at Erik and furrowed his brow, "WE? I did not say _Christine_ was coming. YOU are the one taking the pictures, not her."

"You expect me to leave my fiancée behind?"

Loki shrugged, "Oren is still hiding out here, is he not? He can keep her company."

Erik narrowed his eyes, "The last person I want keeping Christine company is Orpheus!"

"I see no problem. Christine would probably prefer spending time alone with a _handsome_ man for once." Loki pointed out.

"You're right, Erik. He _does_ want to be strangled." Christine replied as she slid her robe on and climbed off the bed.

Loki rolled his silver eyes, "Whatever. My point is, he has to take these pictures without you."

"No!" Erik decided.

"Fine," Christine said at the same time.

Erik glanced at her, brow furrowed. He came around the bed and stood before her. "Beloved?"

She put a hand to his skeletal cheek, "It's okay. This will be good for you! Go do that photo shoot when we're finished our performances. Call me every night while you're away and let me know what's going on." She smiled. "You need some time away from everything once in a while. It's allowed."

"It will be all of one week, Mr. Ghost," Loki said.

"See? Not that long!" Christine encouraged.

Erik took her aside and leaned down to speak softly, "I do not want you alone with Oren. He almost killed Martine!" He nodded to the lock on the door - something he had put on when Leroux had dropped the babysitting responsibility in his lap. It was only a shame it could not keep out gods who could teleport. "Your safety stands above anything else." He glanced back at Loki, "Such as publicity photos."

Christine shrugged. "If you want, Nadir can stay here while you're gone. He won't let anything happen." She reached up to slide her arms around him, "Please, Erik? I want you to do this."

"Were you not against me parading myself in public?" he asked.

She smiled, "I was. Still am. Just as long as you don't start going on talk shows every week and go on a concert tour for a year, it's all good."

Erik scoffed, "I have no plans of performing anywhere else but the Populaire. And even then, only because it is something I have, unfortunately, fallen into."

"True. But we've been selling tickets to a lot of younger audiences lately. _Female_ audiences." She added with a wink.

"It is nice to have youngsters appreciate opera," Erik agreed, completely oblivious.

Christine laughed, "It isn't the _opera_ they're appreciating. It's the sexy masked tenor with the heavenly voice."

"But I am _not_-"

"Tall, dark and mysterious?" She interrupted with a raised eyebrow. Christine then turned to Loki, "He'll go with you next week." She decided.

"He doesn't seem overly eager," Loki muttered.

Christine waved away that concern. "No worries." She turned back to Erik, "I can convince him. I'm good at that." She grabbed Erik's unmasked face and brought his mouth to hers, kissing him soundly.

"Oh please! How utterly revolting!" Loki turned away.

Erik tried to pull away, never one for public displays of affection, but Christine would not let him go.

Repulsed, Loki disappeared.

Christine quickly broke the kiss. "Finally. I thought he'd never leave!"

"Ah, I was wondering why you were suddenly so bold in front of Loki," Erik replied.

Christine playfully tackled Erik to the bed, "You act like I've never been bold with you."

"Not in front of others, no. Though I rather like how you make up for that when we are alone." He then indicated her current position atop him, "Comfortable?"

Christine rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. "Mmm-hmm… _very_ comfortable."

* * *

**Daaé-Garner Residence – the next week**

"So tell me, dear," Nadir began as he sat beside Christine in the television room, "Do you have a date for the wedding yet?"

"No. Not yet." Christine answered. "I've been looking around at invitations and wedding dresses and stuff though."

"Funny. I thought Erik would jump at the chance to marry you as soon as possible."

"Yeah… well…" Christine glanced down at her hands, folded neatly in her lap. "_I'm_ the one holding off."

Nadir furrowed his brow, "But why?"

Christine shrugged, "I don't want to baby sit my husband, that's why." She said, then explained. "He's gone for the week without me because I _told_ him to go. Truth is, I feel like I have to _drag_ him outside. He needs to do that on his own. Does that make sense?"

Nadir nodded. "It does. And I agree with you – he cannot be a recluse forever, and you cannot always be at his side when he steps out the door." He studied the girl before him, a small smile upon his lips. "Still, I am sure he'd like your company after a few days with Loki."

Christine laughed at that, "Yeah, I was thinking of heading out in a day or two." She blushed, "I DO miss him." Her voice then grew softer. "I really want to marry Erik, Mr. Khan. I _want_ us to go out together. Go dancing, or to dinner." She shrugged, "I just don't want to be trapped indoors for the rest of my life because my husband doesn't like to deal with the outside world."

"I know, my dear…" Nadir was about to say more when his attention seemed diverted. He focused at the doorway behind Christine, "Oren? How are you today?"

Oren stepped forward, and Christine turned to look at him. There was something odd about the way he was carrying himself. She furrowed her brow, "You okay?"

"I'm fine," he answered coldly. "Perhaps it was hearing you talk about you marrying that _thing_ that disturbed me."

"Pardon me?" Christine frowned.

Oren blinked quickly, his demeanour changing once again. "Sorry… what did I say?"

Nadir stood up. "Did you black out again, Oren?"

"I…" Oren seemed confused for a moment. "I think… for a moment, I did. I remember walking down the hall, hearing you talk… then I don't remember anything until… well… until Ms. Christine said 'pardon me'." He looked concerned, "Did I say something inappropriate?"

"Not _you _specifically," Christine muttered.

Oren walked into the room and sat on a chair a few feet from Nadir and Christine. "Ms. Christine, Mr. Nadir… whatever is doing this to me, I have the distinct sense that it has a personal problem with Mr. Erik."

"Really?" Nadir asked, leaning forward with interest. "What else do you sense?"

Oren closed his eyes, trying to concentrate. "Bitterness. Anger." His eyes flew open, a gasp escaping his lips. "_Evil_." He hugged himself. "Make it go away!"

Christine quickly knelt at Oren's side and took his hand. "It's okay. Calm down. Tell us what you see and feel about the presence in your head."

He looked down at Christine, "I get such horrible images sometimes. Visions of cruelty. This thing… it's a _male_, I know that much." He glanced over at Nadir, "And it – he – is not very fond of you either, Mr. Nadir. He knows you."

Christine met Nadir's eyes, worry clear on her face.

"We will get to the bottom of this," Nadir said. "I promise." Oren nodded his head, seemingly comforted by Nadir's words.

Christine, on the other hand, was not so convinced.

* * *

**The next afternoon**

_I stand in front of the doorway to Christine's bathroom and hear the shower going. She is in there. I remember, through Orpheus's embarrassment, what she looks like nude. Does she not realize how desirable she is? _

_Well, I must admit there was another who was highly desirable, but she has grown too old for my tastes and has since given up all other men but the one she has recently married. She was an experienced woman, that one. _

_This young one, however, is not quite as experienced. She has only been with one man. I will change that._

_I step closer to the door. I can easily walk in and have Erik's little angel. Hideously ugly thing he is. His face and body looks like something between a living man and dead one. _

_Christine… I am going to see you now._

"No!"

_What is that? I cannot move my hand to the door! The water is stopping inside the room. She is stepping out. I need to go to her NOW._

"NO! Leave Ms. Christine alone!"

_Go away, Orpheus! You cannot control me! It is I who controls YOU._

"I will not let you hurt her!"

_You do not have a choice!_

"STOP!"

_I will kill you and take back my body! Do not test me!_

_Ah… he is gone, finally. He has made me hesitate long enough. I am opening the door NOW… and I see…_

_… nothing._

_Christine is gone? But how? Where did she disappear to?_

Orpheus seems rather relieved that she is not here. That creature is getting increasingly annoying.

_I will make him suffer greatly before I completely destroy his mind._

* * *

**Palton Hotel – a few minutes earlier**

"You have been rather unpleasant as of late, Mr. Ghost!" Loki complained as the two rode up in the hotel elevator after an early morning shoot. "Then again, you are _always_ unpleasant. Just more so this week."

"I am feeling rather _tense_ at the moment!" Erik snapped in response, exiting the doors.

"Of course you are. I think your reasons are rather obvious," Loki replied as they reached Erik's hotel room.

"Really?" Erik frowned. "And you know me so well?"

"Well, I know that you are a _man_ – albeit a freakishly abnormal one," Loki muttered, "but you are capable of everything _normal_ men are capable of."

"What are you insinuating?" Erik asked suspiciously, ignoring Loki's insult.

"Simply that, like all other men, you have reasons for your tension. I have thus found a way to _ease_ your tension. Open the door and you will see." Loki indicated the door to the hotel room.

Erik was hesitant, wondering what Loki was planning, but unlocked his door regardless.

He froze when he saw the scantily clad young woman who awaited him on the bed."What the hell is this? Some kind of joke?" He demanded of the trickster.

Loki shrugged, "She is quite good at what she does. She comes highly recommended, in fact. Take out your… _frustrations_… with her before you snap and kill someone."

Erik grabbed Loki by the collar of his shirt and dragged him into the room, shutting the door quickly lest someone in the hallway see his female visitor. "If you were not immortal, I know whom I would kill _first_!" he hissed. "Did you truly believe I would take you up on this?"

Erik then focused on the woman, who was looking somewhat nervous at the display of anger before her. "Get. Out." He demanded slowly, his voice cold and frightening.

The woman seemed more than happy to grab her robe and push past the tall frightening man and his shorter companion and out the door to her next customer.

"Do you know I had to pay her in advance?" Loki whined. "It was the only way she would agree to let you keep the mask on!"

Erik tossed the trickster effortlessly across the room, "You make me sick!"

Loki climbed to his feet and smoothed down his clothing nonchalantly, "You are like a loyal little puppy dog, aren't you? You cannot even imagine touching another woman but _her._"

"Some of us _love_ our wives, yes!" Erik answered.

"I love my wife!" Loki insisted. "In fact, I love women in general."

"That is obvious," Erik muttered.

"I am a god." Loki replied simply, "We bore easily."

With a disapproving shake of his head, Erik sat down on his bed. "I went thirty years without physical contact. _I_ do not bore so easily!"

Loki raised a flaming red eyebrow, "Really? So tell me then - in those thirty years, how many people did you kill? Far more than you have killed since you have had Christine's attentions, no? It obviously does much to ease your tension."

"That is neither here nor there!" Erik barked. He started to massage his temples, wanting the week over with, and the trickster out of his company. "My _tension_, as you put it, stems from the fact that I, a man who has lived in solitude for most of his life, am now being paraded about in public! It has nothing to do with my lack of … _attention_…"

"Is that so?" Loki asked. "We will see…" He disappeared, leaving Erik alone.

Erik groaned and flopped back onto the bed, tugging his mask off before pinching the narrow bridge of his non-existent nose. _Loyal puppy dog…_ Erik recalled Loki's words. _So be it. I will gladly be Christine Daaé's bitch…_ he chuckled aloud.

"Mind letting me in on the joke?" a female voice interrupted.

Erik immediately stopped laughing, sitting up quickly as he took in the confused, towel-clad girl who stood before him, "And while you're at it, how about explaining how I got here?"

"Christine?"

"Erm… yeah…" Christine glanced at the gel tube in her hands, "And unless I just had a major blackout, ten seconds ago I was standing in the bathroom, preparing to de-frizz my hair." She ran her fingers through her damp curls.

"As fascinating as that is," a bored voice interrupted, "We have a problem that only you seem able to take care of." Christine and Erik turned to see Loki standing a few feet behind the diva, "Your living corpse is in desperate need of something to relieve his tension. He is driving me mad!"

The trickster gave Christine a light shove towards Erik, "So have at it. I will send you back home later - if he does not completely exhaust you." Loki tugged off her towel and disappeared before either could stop him.

Erik immediately grabbed his duster and wrapped it around her.

"Well…" Christine started, hugging the coat tightly around her, "This is… _awkward_."

"Loki had no right to bring you here. Especially not for _that_." Erik frowned. "I will sufficiently deal with him for what he just did to you!"

Erik headed towards his suitcase and pulled out a t-shirt, shorts and belt. He tossed them to Christine, "These will make you feel less… _exposed_."

Erik politely turned away as she dressed.

"Loki's just lucky I was missing you a little," Christine smiled when she was done. "Otherwise, I'd be pretty annoyed."

Erik turned back to her, "And you are not annoyed _now_?"

Christine wrapped her arms around his waist. "Not so much."

He placed a light kiss atop her head, "I am glad of your company," he then quickly added, "Though not for the reasons Loki insists…"

Christine laughed at that as she let go of him and made herself comfortable on one of the two chairs in the suite. "So… how's the room service? I figure you probably don't spend much time down in the restaurant."

"You figure correctly," he answered as he took the chair beside her. "The food is decent. If you are hungry, I can call down for something."

"Sure," Christine replied. "I'll just let Nadir know I'm safe and sound."

"Yes. Then I will take you shopping. You cannot walk around in my ill-fitting clothes for the rest of the week."

Christine let out a happy cheer at the promise of a shopping spree.

* * *

**Elsewhere**

_Find her. Find them both._

It was not only one creature that heard the command, but many. In many different places. They all wanted to attack if they found the ones their master was looking for.

_If you wish. It makes no difference to me. You will most likely be dusted though._

They denied they would, claiming to be stronger than any other of their kind. HE didn't have the patience for their gloating.

_If you say so. Do what you want. Just let me know where they are before the Hunter kills you._

* * *

**Glynden Mall**

Erik glanced at his watch and let out a sigh. He had been sitting in the waiting area at the door to the dressing room for the last thirty minutes. Christine had asked his opinion twenty minutes ago on an ensemble she had put together, then had disappeared once again.

"Sir?" A nervous sales woman came up to the masked man, "May I help you?"

Erik glanced over at her and she quickly averted her eyes from his mask. "I'm waiting for someone." He answered, and turned his attention back to the door.

"I'm sorry, sir… but… I have to ask you to leave."

"Oh?" Erik replied, then nodded to two other men sitting in chairs a few feet away. "I suppose you'll ask _them_ to leave as well?"

"They're here with their wives…" she explained.

"As am I." Erik answered simply, then frowned. "And she is taking her dear sweet time."

"I'm going to have to call security if you don't leave, sir. Our customers are finding your presence uncomfortable."

"Are they now?" Erik asked as he stood up, making good use of his six-feet, six inches of height. "And why is that?" He asked, an angry edge to his voice. "Why, exactly, do your customers think I've been sitting in front of this change room for the last half hour? Because I enjoy staring at the lovely white doors?"

"Sir," the saleslady's tone grew firmer, "I'm going to ask you to leave one more time. If not-"

"Excuse me," another voice interrupted. The two turned to see Christine stepping out of the dressing room wearing a midriff bearing halter top and low rise jeans – two of the many items of clothing she had brought in with her. "Is there a problem here?"

The saleslady walked towards her, "No, ma'am. I was simply telling this man that he is making you ladies uncomfortable. He's going to leave so that you can go about your shopping unbothered."

Christine laughed, "If he leaves, who's going to pay for my clothes?"

The saleslady seemed confused. "Pardon?"

Christine walked up to Erik and slid an arm around his waist. "My fiancé offered to treat me. He was going to be really _generous_ too." She shrugged. "Oh well. I'm pretty sure I can find what I want at one of the other stores in the mall."

The saleslady stepped forward, a bright smile on her face. "I assure you that our clothing is of the highest quality. If there's anything you need help with-"

"...then we'll go somewhere else," Christine interrupted, "Since you want us to leave and all…"

The saleslady looked between Erik and Christine, her mouth opened to respond, but Christine spoke before she had a chance.

"_Marissa_, is it?" Christine asked, reading the lady's name tag. "For future reference – I would advise AGAINST kicking out your customers' spouses. It could be bad for business."

Christine motioned for Erik to lean down as she rolled to her tip toes and gave him a quick kiss on his masked cheek. "I'll be right out," she informed him before disappearing back into the dressing room.

Erik glanced at the stunned saleslady and offered a rather chilling smirk. She backed away and immediately went about other business.

When Christine was done, the two headed out into the hall, making there way through various other stores. One glance through the skylight made it clear that night had fallen. The mall was only going to be open for another two hours.

"This was nice," Christine said as she entwined her fingers with his. "Spending the day with you, out in public."

"Getting kicked out of stores…" Erik muttered.

Christine waved away his comment, "I didn't like the clothes there anyway."

Erik suddenly froze, earning a concerned look from Christine. He slowly glanced behind them, and she followed his gaze. There were two men walking behind them, doing nothing to hide the fact that they were pursuing them. "Keep walking…" he instructed.

She did so and Erik led her out of a side door, then slid his hand into his duster and pulled out a stake, surprising the two men who stepped through the door and quickly turning them to dust.

"In public?" Christine asked, wide eyed. "I mean, I understand down a dark alley but… the mall?"

"They were seeking us out." He glanced at the stake in his hand, remembering how Martine had been attacked.

"Why would they follow us? Who told them too?" Christine asked.

Erik looked down at her, the question sparking a realization in his mind. He knew only _one_ creature that could make a vampire follow his will.

Erik did not like how the pieces were fitting together. He quickly grabbed the cell phone from his belt and stepped away from Christine, giving himself some privacy as he made a phone call.

"Nadir?" He started, "I know who has taken residence in Orpheus' head…"

**End of Episode 14**


	15. Episode 15

**_A/N: Thanks to my beta, Olethros. _**

I know this update took longer than usual. I don't have a lot of free time, but I'm still planning to finish the 'fic - however long it may take. :)

* * *

**Erik: the Vampire Hunter - The Continuing Adventures**

**Episode 15**

By: Elektra

Christine lazily rolled over in bed to face the man beside her, but only found a cool spot in his place. "Erik?"

"Not here."

Christine shot up in bed, looking back and forth for the voice that had answered her.

"If Mr. Ghost left you wanting, I may be able to assist."

Christine jumped as Loki appeared on the bed beside her. "That's quite all right," she frowned, suppressing the urge to punch the man in his large pointed nose. "Did you see where my fiancé went?"

"Hotel gym. Seemed to be in a bit of a mood."

She nodded. "He had something weighing on his mind last night."

"What?"

Christine shrugged, "Hunter stuff, I guess."

Loki seemed thoughtful, "He didn't tell you?"

"No…" she pouted. "It _would_ be nice to know what the heck is going on though."

Christine slid off the bed. If she wanted answers, she'd have to seek Erik out and get them.

Christine was silent for a moment, then glanced over at Loki. "Just so you know," she began, "Erik's not going to be doing anything more public than taking these photos."

Loki raised an eyebrow, "He doesn't seem to have any problem performing on stage!"

"Only because he has to," she reminded him. "I can count the number of times he's been on stage on one hand." She held up her index finger, "The first time, the lead tenor had been eaten by the understudy, and Erik had to then get rid of the understudy. He took his place as a favour to me because it was my birthday. Two," she held up her second finger, "Oren is possessed by God-knows-what and his understudy ran away, so Erik did the professional thing and took his place for a two week run."

"And whose fault do you think it is that Orpheus' understudy ran away?" Loki asked with a frown. "I was there! Your lover decided to reveal his ugly face when the understudy attempted to stick his hand up a ballet rat's tutu."

Christine seemed surprised, but pleased. "Good! Erik has no patience for perverts."

Loki let out a derisive snort, "As if he has any right to prevent another man from rutting."

Christine furrowed her brow, "From… _what_?"

"You know… rutting. Like when the corpse steals you into that secret passageway behind Box Five during a rather slow rehearsal day."

Christine's face turned scarlet, eyes growing wide. "HEY! That… that only happened _once_!" She protested. "And… it… it was because he'd been too busy to-and what on EARTH were you doing spying on us anyway, you pervert?"

"I was bored …" he muttered.

Christine simply rolled her eyes. "I'm going to find Erik."

"Yes. You should do that." Loki replied, still sitting on the bed, staring at her.

"If you don't mind," she began politely. "I need to get changed."

"Go ahead." Loki offered.

Christine crossed her arms, "In private…"

Loki pouted, "Well, you're no fun. Fine…" he sighed, "I'll check in later."

Without another word, he was gone. Christine quickly set about changing into one of the new outfits Erik had bought for her the previous day.

* * *

**Hotel Gym**

Alone in the gym, Erik hit the sandbag in front of him, pretending it was something – or someone - else. _I can't believe he's back! _He hit the bag harder. _Orpheus can't handle him. There's only one way to stop him._

His fists moved faster, harder. _This is why Leroux told me to baby-sit him. He knew I'd consider the worst. He knew I would consider going back to my old ways, despite my promise to Christine._

He remembered that promise. It was the morning after their first year anniversary. He promised her the executioner would be gone from then on. It was shortly afterwards that she had accepted his marriage proposal.

Good to his word, Erik had not executed since.

_I can't go back on that promise. Not now. Not ever… _

_…but… _

_…what if there's no other way? _

Erik was low on options. He needed to think of something that did not involve the blood of an innocent man. But what? For if Orpheus couldn't control this demon, who could?

"Hey, beautiful."

Erik was startled out of his thoughts by Christine's voice. He turned to see her standing beside him in a pair of athletic pants and a baby tee, looking concerned.

"Christine…" Erik replied, unsure what to say. He knew she'd have questions.

"Why did you disappear this morning without telling me?" She asked as she reached out for his arm.

"I… had some issues to work out." He said quickly.

"Issues? These _issues_ wouldn't have anything to do with what you were talking to Nadir about last night?" She glanced at the bag in front of him, "Something that made you so mad you tore that open with your bare hands?"

It was only then Erik had noticed the seams on the sandbag had ripped, white grains slowly pouring out.

Christine gently took one of Erik's hands in hers, "If I'm not mistaken, you're actually supposed to use boxing gloves on this thing. You won't be able to play your music if you keep punishing your poor hands like this." She kissed his bruised knuckles.

"Speaking of music…" Erik continued, quickly changing the subject, "We must continue on with Loki's ridiculous itinerary." He took his hand from hers, leaving Christine no chance to continue her inquiry. "Time is of the essence. There are three places I am being dragged to today."

Christine offered a small smile, "You're never _dragged_ anywhere. You go _grudgingly_, but you still go."

"True. Very well then. Let us go."

No more was said as they headed out of the gym.

* * *

**Garner-Daaé Residence**

"Mr. Khan?" Oren asked as he came to sit beside Nadir in the living room. "You have seemed ill at ease since Mr. Erik called you."

"Yes… well…" Nadir shifted uncomfortably. "He had some disturbing news."

"About?"

"Guild related things," Nadir answered shortly. "Nothing to concern yourself with."

Oren let out a chuckle. "Would it concern your whore of a wife?"

Nadir jumped to his feet, holding himself at the ready. "It's pointless keeping secrets now, isn't it? You're aware we know."

Oren's inhabitant laughed harshly. "You would be a fool _not_ to. I thought Erik would have realized it long before now – though I imagine Christine distracts him quite a bit." He focused his eyes on Nadir. _Gold _eyes. "Madeline was rather distracting too. I suppose you've figured that out for yourself, however. The slut managed to trick _you_ into marrying her."

He leaned in close, a frightening smirk on his face. "Did she wear white at the wedding? Because that would have been quite humorous to see, being that the woman hasn't been pure since she was fifteen years old. Are you able to keep her in your bed, or does she wander like she used to?"

Nadir's fist flew, hitting the creature square in the jaw.

"Oh goody. A fight!"

Oren's inhabitant grabbed Nadir and slammed his face into the coffee table. Nadir tried to counter, but to no avail. The younger body was strong, and whatever had _control_ of the body was stronger still.

Nadir stumbled away and regained his footing. He connected with an uppercut and tried for another, but Oren's inhabitant stepped back and caught Nadir with a chop block, sending the Guild detective sprawling to the ground.

Oren's body pinned Nadir beneath him, his strong hands going around the older man's neck and squeezing.

As his vision began to go dark, the hands suddenly released their hold, "Mr. Nadir?" Oren gasped when he saw the unconscious man beneath him. "Mr. Nadir? Please… not again."

He quickly crawled away, his back against the wall, knees tucked against his chest. "No… not again… please… not again…"

Nadir remained motionless.

* * *

Loki frowned as he went through Christine's drawers in the master bedroom. _Either the corpse doesn't need much coercing, or the girl really is as innocent as she looks. _

The trickster had yet to find anything that would be considered 'seductive' among Christine's lingerie. At most, he had found two pairs of lace undergarments. Everything else was made of plain cotton. _Far too vanilla for my tastes._

The reason for this intrusion of privacy was simple – Erik was STILL unpleasant to be around. It was grating on Loki's nerves. The masked man had even snapped at one of the photographers and threatened to kill him.

Judging by Christine's earlier comment regarding Erik's distracted state of mind, the man had _still_ not feasted on her lovely little body. Loki's hard work would go up in flames if the man didn't relieve his tension soon.

A small mew interrupted Loki's searching. He frowned at the one-eyed cat that stared up at him.

"Don't look at me that way, feline. I have good reason for doing this!" He continued his search. "It's only a shame that you are not as intelligent as the _real_ Odin . If you _were_, you could tell me where Ms. Daaé's 'naughty' drawer is."

The cat simply continued staring and, if Loki believed it possible, looked upon the trickster with disapproval.

Before Loki could talk back to the cat once more, a loud crash was heard from downstairs.

"What in Odin's name?" Loki gasped as he dropped the cami in his hands. He slowly tiptoed to the door and out into the hall, listening.

"Mr. Nadir? Please… not again."

He knew the voice. It was that of his former employer.

Loki swore under his breath.

A quick snap of his fingers set the master bedroom to rights again, and he immediately transported himself to the living room.

He saw Nadir's unmoving form laying on the ground surrounded by glass, and quickly knelt beside him, checking for a pulse.

Satisfied the mortal was still living, he focused his silver eyes back on the man cowering in the corner. "I suppose you have an explanation for attacking the ghost's friend?" he asked with a raise of one blood-red eyebrow.

"It wasn't me!" Oren protested desperately. "It was HIM!"

"I highly doubt Mr. Khan here strangled himself with his bare hands," Loki said, indicating the bruises forming around Nadir's neck.

Oren simply shook his head, "Is… is he going to be okay?" he asked meekly, his face lined with worry.

Loki looked back at Nadir and sighed, "Well… I suppose if he is _tended_ to he will be." Nadir's body suddenly disappeared.

Oren jumped to his feet, backing up against the wall. "What did you do with him? Where is he?"

Loki calmly stood up and brushed off his pants. "On a gurney in front of a hospital. Hopefully someone will notice him shortly." He shrugged, "Of course, they'll be wondering where he appeared from, but nothing to be done for that."

Oren glanced back to where Nadir had been. "You… you can make people go away?" he asked. "Did you do that to Ms. Christine too?"

"The other day? Yes. For all the good it did me. Her lover is still as grumpy as ever."

"You saved her." Oren spoke softly. "HE wanted her."

Loki furrowed his brow. "Who is HE?"

Oren pointed to his temple. "The one in here. If Christine had still been there…" he let the sentence trail.

"That woman does not want anyone touching her but the corpse," Loki scoffed. "I've offered."

"He doesn't care!" Oren exclaimed.

Loki studied the man before him, realizing where the worry lay. "Not even a god like myself would stoop that low," he said at last.

Oren let out a harsh laugh, his voice growing cold. "You are no god."

Loki narrowed his eyes. "Goodness, you switch personalities faster than a whore drops her skirts."

"Where are Erik and his woman?" Oren's inhabitant demanded.

"Considering what Oren just told me, I have no intention of telling you."

"Why do you act as if you owe them something? They mean nothing to creatures like us!"

"Creatures like us?" Loki repeated. "Now I may not know who you are, but I know enough to say that I am fairly older than you. You cannot be more than… what… a little over one-thousand? Perhaps fifteen-hundred years old? You came into existence long after MY people were sleeping."

Oren's inhabitant laughed, "Yes, and now your people are awake and are only a bit more powerful than these mortals." He raised an eyebrow, "And so, you ask those same mortals for protection."

Loki was struck silent.

"You think I didn't know about that?" the creature continued. "You fear me, so leave the bravado behind. You are _not_ all that brave."

Loki took a step back, "Yes… well… let's not argue. Who are you?"

"Ask Erik. He knows me very well." The creature stepped forward. "Now where is he?"

"Why? Does he owe you money?" Loki asked. "You can always hire a collection agency-" His words were interrupted when a loud roar of anger ripped from Oren's throat. "My, but you do have the same unpleasant temper as him." Loki then grew curious. "Surely you're not related…"

"WHERE IS HE?"

"You really don't know, do you?" Loki asked.

A frown marred Oren's handsome face. "My scouts were turned to dust before they could report back to me!"

Loki found that comment interesting. He knew only of one type of creature that could be turned to dust, and knew of one particular person who was very good at doing so.

"Well, I can say with certainty that he is still on this Earth." Loki offered, hiding his growing suspicions. He glanced at his wrist, "Now would you look at the time? It's been very nice chatting with you, Mr. Demon."

Before any more could be said, Loki disappeared.

* * *

**Palton Hotel –later**

Loki sighed as he paced back and forth throughout the room, his eyes watching Christine and Erik, who were growing increasingly annoyed with his presence.

"What IS it already?" Erik demanded, tired of watching the trickster wear a path in the carpet.

Loki focused his silver eyes on the masked man, "I have some information…"

Erik and Christine stared at him, waiting.

Loki shrugged, "… but… I do not want to get involved in a battle between supernatural beings. It could lead to… _problems_. End-of-the-world type problems."

Christine stepped forward, "Loki, please. Just tell us."

Loki released a breath. "I had an unfortunate chat with that… whatever-it-is inside Orpheus." He focused on Christine "I would be remiss if I didn't mention this _thing_ has rather unpleasant plans for you, Ms. Daaé."

He then turned his attention to Erik. "He… IT… can control those… what are they called? The undead things with the fangs?"

"Vampires?" Christine asked, eyes wide. "It has power over _vampires_?" She looked at Erik, her thoughts running at a hundred miles per hour. "I mean… I know you said they were once hanging around the theatre but… I had no idea Oren… or whatever… could CONTROL them." She paled, growing fearful.

Loki found her reaction rather interesting. "I have a feeling you know who it may be?"

"Erik?" Christine reached for his hand.

Loki looked between the two of them, and knew when to make himself scarce.

When Christine and Erik were left alone once again, she let go of his hand. "Tell me what's going on."

"If I do, it will upset you."

"Upsetting me is better than leaving me in the dark!" Christine insisted.

Erik looked away. "I may have to do something I promised never to do again…"

"Are you talking about Executing?" She demanded.

He turned to face her again. "There might be no other way…"

"I don't _care_!" Christine interrupted as she paced with agitation. "No more Executioner! You promised!"

"You need not remind me of my promises," Erik growled. "But what do you expect me to do? Allow my- this _thing_ to simply roam free in Orpheus's head?"

Christine shook her head vehemently, "No! But YOU don't have to be the one to stop it!"

"I SHOULD be the one!" Erik snapped in response. "He forced this curse of an existence on me!"

Christine stopped pacing and turned to him, her voice growing quiet. "It IS him…" she realized. "It's HIM!" Erik turned away and Christine grabbed his arm. "TELL me!"

"Tell you _what_? You have already figured it out."

Christine swallowed nervously, not liking the conclusion. "No… he… he's dead. You _told_ me he was dead!"

"Something like him doesn't _die_. It only leaves once its body can no longer can sustain it. It is how we were able to get rid of him before. When Martine resurrected the body, HE somehow came back to claim it."

Christine slowly walked over to the bed and sat down, head in her hands.

"Some of the things Oren's said and done…" she began. "Some of the things Oren told me he was feeling…" She looked up at him, "But… even if… if HE came back - you _promised_ me the Executioner was gone."

Christine held up her hand, showing the ring on her finger. "If you break that promise, you break our engagement. That's it. I can't… I _won't_…" she shook her head, unable to finish her sentence.

Erik could not meet her eyes. "Then, beloved… Sytri will always have complete power over us …"

**End of Episode 15 **


	16. Episode 16

_**A/N: Thanks to my beta, Olethros. **_

* * *

**Erik: the Vampire Hunter - The Continuing Adventures **

**Episode 16**

By: Elektra

Erik sat on the floor in a darkened corner of the bedroom, watching Christine sleep. How she could sleep when she knew whom…_what_… wandered the house in the form of a soft spoken young man, he couldn't figure out.

Orpheus had still not left their home, though his reasoning was beyond Erik. He imagined that Oren was frightened of what lay ahead and saw the house as a place of refuge - but the demon that possessed him was not so innocent.

No, Erik was quite sure Sytri had other reasons for staying where he was. Erik watched the boy like a hawk, making sure Christine was never left alone with him.

Christine, for her part, was torn between her concern for Oren's well-being, and her fear of Sytri's power. She did not insist he leave, though she knew the risk that lay just beneath the gentle boy's surface.

Erik thought she was far too compassionate for her own good.

Nadir, on the other hand, had decided to keep his distance. His own brush with death was enough for him to question Erik's sanity in letting such a dangerous creature remain under his roof.

Suffice it to say, the Guild detective had not come to visit since.

Though Orpheus was doing the best job he could to prevent Sytri from gaining full control, Erik could see the boy's strength was weakening. He was showing physical exhaustion from the effort. His personality flipped on a dime. He was going to lose the battle whether he wanted to or not. Sytri would soon have his own body back…

… unless the demon found himself trapped once again.

_Could I do it?_

Erik wasn't quite sure _which _question he was asking: Could he end Orpheus' life if Sytri took over … or could he find a new body in which to trap the demon?

_And if I attempted the latter, who could possibly be strong enough to withstand Sytri's influence?_

A disturbing thought entered Erik's head.

_I have been controlling my demons all my life. What difference would it make if one had a voice?_

He glanced back at Christine.

_And how much danger would SHE be in?_

That was where the line of thought turned. Erik realized that his decision was already made.

_I'll have to make myself scarce. Just for a little while._

At least it was better than staining his hands with blood once more, losing Christine forever.

Erik slowly pushed to his feet and changed into his sleepwear. He quietly slipped into bed, his back to the woman beside him, and closed his eyes.

Sleep refused to come.

He wasn't sure how long it was before he felt the slender arm around his waist and the warm body snuggling against his back.

"Beloved…" he began softly, "I must go on an assignment for the Guild."

"When?" came the sleepy reply.

"In the morning."

He could hear the frown in her voice when she spoke next, "And when, exactly, did they tell you this?"

"They told me nothing. It's just something I know must be done."

"I don't understand," she replied.

"No need to understand. Just know that I will be gone for a while. I cannot give you an exact time, but it will only be until matters are taken care of. I will try to keep in touch. Hopefully things right themselves quickly. I don't like being away from you for very long."

"Care to explain more?" Christine asked.

"Right now, I can't. I'm not quite sure myself. I'll let you know as soon as _I_ know."

Christine let out a sigh, but her voice was gentle when she spoke next. "No secrets, Erik."

"No secrets. Not anymore. I promise."

Christine resigned herself to the situation. _For now_. "Turn over and say goodbye properly then…"

* * *

**Orpheus's room – several hours later**

Erik stood over Orpheus's sleeping form and glared down at him. " Come now, useless creature!" he hissed, "Don't you want to say _hello_ to your son?"

"Useless, am I?" came Sytri's voice from Orpheus's body, golden eyes slowly opening. " Really, Erik... you make me laugh. As if ANY demon has a use above ground! I am not here to be useful. I'm here to have fun."

"In a weak boy's body?" Erik asked. "Or perhaps I am calling the wrong creature _weak_."

"And what, exactly, do you mean by that, son?"

"Only that you have failed to gain complete control of his body." Erik shrugged, "Not that it matters. After all we did to you, I'm surprised you even had enough power to return topside to begin with."

Sytri sat up quickly. "You are making claims for which you have no proof!"

"I admit, I am baffled by your reappearance, _Father_," he spat the word out bitterly. "And my curiosity leads me to wonder if you managed it all by yourself."

"You think I couldn't?" Sytri asked, his tone growing angry. " I am stronger than you know!"

"If you were so strong, you would have entered MY body instead."

Sytri let out a harsh laugh, "Best not to challenge me, boy. You don't know what I'm capable of!"

"Obviously, you're not capable of controlling ME so you needed to find this boy in my place."

"This BOY has my body. Or rather, what is _left_ of it. I wanted it back."

Erik nodded his head, as if something had been silently confirmed. " MY body is closer to yours than _his_ is now. I am wholly your blood." He paused a moment, "Well, save for that 'human' part you seem to abhor so very much."

Sytri let out a cold laugh, "I can easily take care of that."

Erik feigned interest, "Really? And how would you propose to do that? You are still far too weak to-"

Erik's air was cut off before he could finish. Though he knew what was happening and could easily fight the hands wrapped around his throat, he chose not to.

The plan would not work otherwise.

Sytri's eyes bored into his, their golden shade a mirror of his own.

"You claim I am so weak, yet here I am overpowering you, just as I overpowered Martine. Just as I overpowered the Persian. I can easily take your body for my own. Would you like me to prove it?"

Erik allowed a challenge to enter his eyes. A challenge he knew Sytri could not resist.

_Try it..._

A painful pressure filled Erik's body. It started from his head, and then slowly made its way through. It was in his chest now, moving down to his abdomen, then to his legs and finally his feet. Erik felt heavy and thick, as if he had been turned to stone.

Though his eyes were open, he saw nothing but blackness. It filled him, chilled his blood. He lost track of how long it took before he could regain any feeling.

Slowly, his eyes focused once again. The hands around his throat slid away and a room came into view. Erik saw a young man sitting up in his bed, looking around as if something had greatly confused him.

"Mr. Erik?"

Erik blinked away the last few black spots that crowded his sight and focused on the young man before him. He looked different. His hair, which had once been dark and streaked with gold was now a shimmering blonde - as it no doubt had been several millennia ago.

His face looked younger, his sea-green eyes more innocent.

"What happened?" Orpheus asked. "He… he's _gone_!"

"No, he's not." Erik replied.

"But… I feel… _free_!"

"Yes. He no longer inhabits you." Erik replied. _Instead, it is **I** who am shackled in your place, _he added silently.

"**Oh really, son...**" came a voice within Erik's head, "**Must you always be so dramatic?**"

The voice was disturbing. He looked at Orpheus, wondering if the younger man had heard it. Oren seemed happily clueless.

"I… I can _leave_ now. I can go somewhere else!" Oren replied, oblivious to Sytri's voice.

"I would suggest you don't go too far," Erik answered. "You're still a suspect in Martine's attack."

Orpheus bit his lip nervously, "She needs to wake up. She needs to tell them…" he shifted back and forth. "Do you know if she's well? I worry about her."

"I plan to see her later. To see if she has woken yet."

"Can I come? I… I can help. I mean…" Oren wrung his hands nervously. "I woke up gods. Surely I can wake up a mortal woman. Or… we BOTH can, maybe?"

Erik studied Orpheus, wondering if such a thing could possibly work. "By singing?"

Orpheus shrugged, "That's how it happened before."

Erik considered this. "I suppose it's worth a try, though I will feel like a fool."

"Please, Mr. Erik. I want her well again."

Erik nodded. "Come with me then. Tomorrow."

Erik left the room silently, and momentarily wondered why Sytri had not yet tried to overpower him.

* * *

**The Next Morning**

Christine slowly rolled over to see a note standing alone on Erik's pillow. _Left already?_ She wondered. She picked up the note, her eyes skimming over the red scrawl, disbelief setting in the further she read.

"No…" she gasped. _Why? My God, Erik! Are you insane?_ She shook her head. _Silly question, Christine_. _Erik never once claimed to be of sound mind._

She continued to read on:

… _please forgive your Erik for keeping this from you last night, but he did not wish to end the night in anger. _

_You must understand, however, that this was something that needed to be done. It was the only alternative to Executing Orpheus. Your Erik is willing to do anything to keep his promises to you, for they are the only promises that have ever mattered. _

_I know we will see one another before this mission has been completed, and it's best you know the danger you face. If, at any time, my behaviour is different from what you are used to, run. Run and do not stop until you know you are safe. _

_Yours always, _

_Erik_

Christine let the paper fall from her hands, at a loss for what to do next.

At least she knew the truth. Unfortunately, the truth involved her fiancé being possessed by his demonic father.

It was not as if there were support groups for such things.

* * *

**Hospital**

_I feel HIM here again. But something is different. He's not nearly as cocky as he was._

_And someone else is with him._

"Mr. Erik, those air ducts are rather dusty. I think I inhaled an insect or two as well."

_I hear the voice of my darling Oren. Is he with the Hunter, Erik? Sytri's son?_

"Would you rather have been seen? I could arrange it quite easily."

_Yes. That is definitely Erik._

"No, Mr. Erik. I'm sorry."

_They are silent, though I feel them coming closer._

"Ms. Robichaux? I don't suppose you can hear us."

_Erik's voice is so similar to Sytri's voice, yet far more pleasant to hear._

"But on the off chance you can, let it be known that I plan to get rid of Sytri. I'll need your assistance to do so, however. If there is a way we can wake you, we will attempt it."

_Oren's beautiful voice woke gods. Perhaps hearing the two of them sing together…_

"… even though I still feel like a fool."

_Erik is not one to do foolish things easily._

"Oh no, Mr. Erik. You're not a fool. It could work."

_Sweet Oren, always the optimist. Please don't give up on me."_

"Very well, boy. _You_ begin."

"Yes, sir - Musica è il mio amore. Il primo e l'ultimo. Musica è il futuro. Ed il passato in me. Restare senza note. Impossibile perchè. In queste stanze vuote. La musica mia c'è…"

_Orpheus's voice. The voice that could wake the gods._

"Musica e l'amore. Primo e anche l'unico. Regalo mio piu grande. La musica per te…"

_And now… the voice that could make angels weep has joined him._

_Erik, do you even know the incredible power you have?_

* * *

Erik and Oren stopped singing when they heard the quiet moan coming from the unmoving woman in the bed before him. The masked man narrowed his eyes and studied Martine for any sign of life. 

"**I'm telling you it won't work, Son!"**

"Be silent!" Erik shot back at the voice that interrupted him.

"Mr. Erik?" Orpheus looked up at the taller man, eyes fearful.

"I am not speaking to _you_, boy…" Erik hissed. "Continue the song!"

Oren nodded and continued to sing. Erik joined him once again. As their voices filled the room, Martine's lips began to twitch and her eyelids began to flutter.

"**Stop it!"**

Erik felt as if something had just stabbed his skull from the inside but did not heed Sytri's demands.

Martine's eyes slowly opened. She tried to speak, but her throat was far too dry, her voice a croak.

Erik silenced his voice. Orpheus followed shortly after.

"Go now," Erik instructed the younger man. "Leave the same way we came. I need to inform the nurses that she is awake, and it would do no good for them to find _you_ here."

Oren did not protest and did as he was told. Once he was gone, Erik set about taking charge of the newly awoken patient.

After several minutes of tests and checkups, Martine was able to bring her bed up into a sitting position. Erik saw her wince, and witnessed Sytri's memory of impaling the wooden stake in her chest. The demon had rather enjoyed it.

Martine slowly sipped the water that had been placed beside her, careful not to overdo it, considering she had not had anything in her stomach for some time.

Erik pulled up a chair and sat beside her bed, getting straight down to business. "How do I get rid of Sytri? He is _here_ now," he explained, tapping his temple. "I've freed Orpheus of his influence."

Martine nodded, understanding that this decision was for the best. "You need to send him back where he came from."

"And how do I do that?"

Martine took a deep breath. "I'll have to consult my books. But…" she indicated her weakened state, "It won't be any time soon." She glanced away, her next words making her voice quiver. "You must take Oren home first."

"Home?" Erik asked.

"I made a foolish mistake, Mr. Garner. I brought together two different worlds. It wasn't intentional." She released a breath. "I pulled Oren's spirit from the underworld and placed him in Sytri's body. As you've no doubt realized, Sytri is from a far _different _place."

"What does this mean then?"

"It means I've interfered with both Hades and Lucifer. Two very different creatures. Neither are known for their generous spirit."

"Wonderful," Erik muttered.

"Sytri was one of Lucifer's lower minions. If he had a problem with it, he would have already sent a servant out. I imagine he probably doesn't care at this point."

Erik ignored the angry response from his traveling companion. Sytri was rather offended at Martine's obvious dismissal of his importance to 'Lou'.

"Hades, on the other hand," Martine continued, unaware of the noise in Erik's head, "… has a habit of involving himself in things above ground – such as kidnapping a goddess's daughter to make her his bride." She murmured.

"Yes, I've heard that story," Erik replied.

Martine nodded, "I had no right to take Orpheus from him. He needs to go back. If he wants to live, he needs to ask Hades for his release – though Hades would want something in return, no doubt."

Erik nodded.

Martine met his eyes, "For now, go where you're most comfortable. Somewhere you have power and control. Stay there until I'm well, and we'll take it from there."

"I know where to go," he answered, then stood up and offered Martine a curt nod of his head.

There was one place where he felt in complete control. A place he was a large part of, where he knew every nook and cranny, every hidden tunnel and passageway.

Where he could keep his eye on the one he loved, even though he couldn't touch her.

Erik quickly made his way to the opera house.

**End of Episode 16 **

* * *

**_A/N: The song Erik and Orpheus sing is "Musica" by Il Divo_**. 


	17. Episode 17

_**A/N: Thanks to my beta, Olethros. **_

* * *

**Erik: the Vampire Hunter - The Continuing Adventures **

**Episode 17 **

By: Elektra

Antoinette Giry jumped when the dark figure dropped down from the air ducts in the Populaire's practice room. She had been planning for the upcoming performance of Tchaikovsky's _The Sleeping Beauty_, her hard work now scattered all over her desk.

She looked up at her visitor, her face stoic. "Hello, Erik. How is your guest?"

Erik did not seem surprised. "I see you've talked to Christine."

"Of course. She was rather upset," Giry answered.

"Yes. I imagine she is."

Giry studied Erik carefully, "Can HE hear us?"

Erik shrugged, "I believe he's aware of everything _I'm_ aware of. He just can't do anything about it."

"Are you sure of that?"

"At the moment, yes. Very sure."

**"It's only a matter of time…"**came Sytri's reply.

"Shut up!" Erik hissed.

"Pardon me?" Giry asked, eyes wide.

Erik realized he had spoken aloud, though Giry had not heard whom he was speaking to. "Forgive me, Antoinette. I have a rather annoying voice in my head."

Giry raised an eyebrow, "So you will be speaking to yourself often then?"

"It seems so. A shame no one else can hear him. I suppose it makes me look rather… _unwell_."

"A little, yes." Giry replied.

**"A lot…"**

"Who asked you?" Erik snapped.

"Erik?" Giry eyed Erik warily, unsure.

"SILENCE! Your voice is grating on my nerves!"

"ERIK!"

Erik looked back at Giry, seeing the indignation on her face.

"Pardon me…" he replied, bowing his head apologetically. He glanced away, muttering to himself, "There are many things I would like to say, you impertinent creature, but I will hold my tongue in Antoinette's presence."

"You're not doing a very good job of holding back _anything_, Erik…" Giry replied with a frown.

He turned his attention back to her, "I suppose you're right. Perhaps I should leave before I unintentionally offend. I'll send you a note with what I need to tell you. Show it to no one. Not even the Guild, you understand? They do not need to know what has happened." He then narrowed his eyes, "And I trust you have not mentioned it?"

"No, Erik. I know better."

"Thank you for your discretion then."

Giry nodded, and Erik quickly pulled himself back into the air ducts and disappeared.

* * *

**Later**

Erik walked back and forth along the catwalk above the stage, watching the rehearsals below. Christine was singing a rather powerful aria. He remembered teaching it to her only a few weeks ago – before he had made himself Sytri's new home.

**"Naughty boy…"** Sytri spoke. **"You're thinking about the last night you spent with her."**

"I'm not going to waste my time scolding you for scanning my memories," Erik replied.

**"Your memories are rather interesting. I was given a nice play-by-play of your childhood. I can't understand why you still hold on to some childish love for Madeline. She wasn't exactly mother-of-the-year."**

Erik sensed Sytri was waiting for a reaction. He refused to give one.

**"Let's see now. What else can I trudge up? Oh… yes! Here she is. The girl you killed back in high school. Actually, you killed Laura _twice,_ didn't you? That must be some kind of record."**

Erik remained calm.

**"Well, you're no fun,"**Sytri whined. He was silent a moment, then spoke again. **"I know what your plans are. I know what you're going to do to me. Or rather… TRY to do."**

"Of course you know. You're in my head." Erik finally spoke.

He could have sworn he heard Sytri sigh. **"You're worse than Orpheus. He never made me feel so… _trapped_…"**

"He was not _me_. I'm very good at making others feel trapped."

**"You're very good at strangling the life out of demons… and _humans_, as the case may be. But you never saw the difference, did you?"**

"There was a time where I didn't, no." Erik answered. "As you can no doubt tell, though, the _rational_ part of my mind used to retreat when I carried out executions - although I fully allowed myself to enjoy dusting your _friends_."

**"Yes, you did. You're more disturbed than I gave you credit for."**

"I suppose you're impressed by that?"

**"Of course! You're just like _me_!"**

"I won't deny that I seem to have a little bit of you inside me, but I'm NOT just like you."

**"A shame…" **Sytri was silent for a few minutes. **"Have I told you what I'd like to do to your little woman there?"**

"Yes you have," Erik answered as he glanced down at Christine once again. "I've gone beyond caring about your perverse thoughts. It gives you far too much power."

**"And you don't like to give up your power, do you, son?"**

"I don't imagine many people do," Erik replied.

**"Yet you have constantly let HER take your power from you. You submit to that girl, body and soul. She makes you lose control!"**

Erik chuckled coldly. "She is _Christine_. There is no question that she makes me lose control. This is why I've taken precautions to spare myself from being in a position where my _control_ can easily be lost."

"**So you've chosen _abstinence_ when there is a beautiful woman willing to tend to your every male need?**"

Erik scowled, "Do you think me a fool, Sytri? Such a thing would offer YOU too much of an opening. Besides… I would never allow you to be a third party to what Christine and I share privately, despite the memories you have found in my head."

Sytri's frustration only amused Erik all the more.

* * *

**Opera Populaire - Lounge**

Christine lay on the couch in the now-empty employee lounge. She didn't want to go home. There was no one to go home _to._

At least she wasn't alone _here_.

Though she couldn't see him, Christine knew Erik was lurking. She was torn between wanting to see him, and fear of _who_, exactly, she might be seeing.

"Erik?" she called out to the emptiness. "Are you around?"

"Always…"

Christine jumped at the sound of his voice and glanced behind her. He was closing a panel in the wall that she was quite sure no one else had ever seen before.

She pushed herself to her feet and took a hesitant step towards him. "_Erik_?"

"Yes, beloved. He has not taken over." Erik held a hand out for her. She took it and he pulled her into a hug. "A diva needs her sleep. You should be home by now."

"It's lonely there," she replied, resting her forehead against his chest.

"I apologize, but my reasoning is sound." He answered. She nodded, and he continued. "Come. I will take you home."

"Thanks, beautiful…"

Erik suddenly winced, a scowl upon his face. "It was _not_ a humorous comment!"

Christine looked up at him, worried.

Erik explained, "Sytri finds your pet name for me rather amusing."

Christine could only shake her head in response, "Of course he does."

Erik offered his arm and led her out to the back parking lot. "When you get home, tell Orpheus I need to speak to him tomorrow. There's something important he must do."

"Oh! He's gone."

"Pardon?" Erik asked dangerously, stopping in front of his bike. "Gone as in 'gone for the night', or gone as in you have no idea where he went?"

"No idea where he went." Christine shrugged hopelessly as she slid onto the passenger seat, "I woke up this morning and there was no sign of him. He took all his stuff."

Erik swore under his breath as he climbed on in front of her. If Orpheus wasn't returned – or released – then Martine seemed to believe things would get worse.

**"Erik's bridge is falling down… falling down… falling down…"**Sytri's voice taunted.

"SHUT UP!" Erik roared as he angrily as he revved the engine.

"What?" Christine gasped.

Erik shook his head, "Not _you_, Christine."

"Oh…" she answered, realizing that whatever she said to Erik, whatever she did, Sytri would hear it; Sytri would see it; Sytri would speak on it.

Perhaps _evil_ was not a strong enough word for a creature like that.

* * *

**Nadir's Apartment – later**

"You're a fool!" Nadir snapped as Erik made himself comfortable on the Guild detective's couch. "Did you even _think_ before you made this decision?"

"It was not a decision I came to lightly!" Erik hissed. "You think this doesn't affect me? Affect _Christine_? Yes, Nadir… I DID think!"

Erik eyed the older man with a frown, making note of how Nadir seemed to be keeping his distance.

"I assure you, detective, you will not find my hands around your neck any time soon."

Nadir absently rubbed at his throat, remembering the last time he was alone with a man who was housing Sytri. Erik knew the guild's detective had never been so frightened in his life.

He let it go. "I need to find Orpheus."

"Where am I supposed to look?" Nadir asked as he sat in a chair on the opposite side of the room – an action that didn't go unnoticed. "He could have gone _anywhere_."

"_You're_ the detective. Find him!" Erik demanded.

"It's not as if I can just snap my fingers! Have you even told Gus about this?"

"Leroux is the _last_ person I would tell!" Erik snapped.

"Then how do you expect me to finance this endeavour?" Nadir asked. "Suspicions would arise if I'm suddenly hired by you to look for Oren."

"I know someone willing to donate his vast financial resources and give you a legitimate reason for finding the boy," Erik replied. He had yet to ask the aforementioned donator, but Erik knew he wouldn't be refused.

Or rather, that the man in question wouldn't dare refuse him.

"Should I even _ask_?" Nadir raised a curious eyebrow. Erik offered no answer. The detective took a deep breath, "Do you _really_ need Orpheus? It will not relieve you of Sytri any quicker."

"It might," Erik explained. "…if I make a trade …"

**"Ah, so you finally voice your plans. Were you trying to keep it a secret? As if I couldn't read your mind!"**Sytri spoke.

"Whether you know or not is moot," Erik answered the unwanted voice. "You cannot stop me, regardless."

**"You keep believing that, son. You'll find yourself rather disappointed."**

"Prove it," Erik challenged.

Nadir glanced at Erik, brow furrowed. "I'm sorry?"

Erik turned his attention back to Nadir, remembering that no one else could hear what _he_heard."I have taken to talking to myself, Nadir. Pay no heed."

"This is getting more and more unsettling, Erik…" the older man pointed out.

Erik shrugged. "I'm used to voices in my head. I've just never spoken aloud to them before."

Nadir shifted uncomfortably.

Erik suddenly stood up. "Let me know what you find out. I should leave before Madeline gets home. It's best she not find us here."

"Us?" Nadir raised an eyebrow.

"_Him_, rather. I assume you'll explain the situation."

Nadir nodded. "It's only right she know. You are her _son_, after all. And _he_ was your father…"

Erik let out a harsh laugh. "I am a father, a son, and a very _unholy _ghost!"

Nadir frowned. "That's a rather twisted description of your situation."

Erik shrugged. "I'm rather twisted to begin with." He headed towards the door, and stopped, his voice growing softer. "Tell Madeline I say hello. Tell her not to worry. I will take care…"

"I will," Nadir replied, realizing it was one of the few times Erik had ever shown a hint of concern towards his mother.

Erik offered a sharp nod of his head and left the apartment.

* * *

**Elsewhere**

Hades sat on his ebony throne quietly.

The demon he had freed from the other realm had left the body he had _wanted_ It to take. This didn't sit well. Hades' reasons for that were selfish and vengeful, but it had been his reasons, nonetheless.

He did not like someone changing his plans.

It was bad enough the boy's soul had been taken from him in the first place and given an Earth-bound body – _no one_ took a soul from Hades' realm without permission - but now he had lost track of him. His only connection to Orpheus was that demon.

_You weren't supposed to leave him…_ Hades told the rogue demon. _You were supposed to keep charge of him for me!_

**_I had an offer I couldn't refuse…_** came Sytri's answer.

_And in return, _Hades replied_,you have lost any power you may have had to gain yourself a new body! I allowed you to control THAT one, and you could only do so sporadically._

Hade's comment was met by laughter, **_I have a connection with this new body. Far more than I had with your escapee. Besides, YOU are not my master. I answer to another - and since HE hasn't concerned himself with me, I'm pretty much free to do what I wish. _**

Sytri was silent for a moment, then spoke again,** _But you may get him back regardless. I have it on good authority that you will be receiving visitors. Soon. Very soon. You will be offered a trade. If you agree to it, you will lose Orpheus and the vendetta you hold against him. I doubt you want that._**

Hades considered this. _If it is as you say, I will be prepared. I imagine YOU will be with this entourage?_

Sytri laughed once again,**_ I've already hitched a ride…_.**

* * *

Erik shot up in bed, eyes blinking at the darkness. Where was he? 

_Ah yes. In the basement of the opera house. In a cot. Alone._

**"You're never alone, son. Not anymore."**

"Who were you talking to?" Erik demanded, ignoring Sytri's comment. The Hunter had the odd sense that a conversation had been carried out while he had been sleeping.

"**No one,**" Shay insisted. "**Perhaps I was controlling your body for a few moments.**"

Erik let out a harsh laugh, "You did not take control of anything. I am very aware of what has or has _not_ been done to me!"

"**Is that so?**

Erik didn't answer. "Who were you speaking to? I could not hear his half of the conversation, but I know it was someone far away. Someone with the ability to converse with demons."

**"You really should get some rest, son. Goodnight."**

Sytri easily cut the conversation, leaving Erik wondering what his father was plotting – and with what inhuman creature.

**End of Episode 17**


	18. Episode 18

**_A/N: Thanks to my beta, Olethros._**

* * *

**

Erik: the Vampire Hunter - The Continuing Adventures

**

Episode 18 

By: Elektra 

**DeChagny-Giry Residence**

Raoul DeChagny was having a dream. A lovely, wonderful dream: Meg was lying on their bed, wearing absolutely nothing as she motioned for him to join her. He soon found his own clothing disappearing as he enjoyed every inch of her highly flexible ballerina's body. 

_No wait… that DID happen…_ he recalled. 

"Ray?" 

_ Meg? Do you want to go another round? _

"Sweetie? Wake up…" 

Raoul's eyes opened lazily, a smile on his lips as he fully expected to see… 

… A corpse's face hovering over him. 

"Jesus Christ!" Raoul shouted as he jumped up in bed, eyes wide as he stared at the hideous sight before him. 

"Hardly," Erik muttered in response, tugging his mask back on. "But now that you're awake, we must talk." 

Raoul looked to the smaller figure standing a few feet away, wrapped in a robe. He noted she had averted her eyes when Erik had used his worst asset to wake him up most effectively. 

Meg shrugged hopelessly. "Sorry, babe. Erik needs your help." 

"Well, _ help_ is such a desperate word," Erik pointed out. "I prefer to think of it as… _assistance_. _Financial_ assistance, more specifically." 

Meg handed Raoul a pair of sweat pants. He pulled them on beneath the blankets, frowning at the man before him. 

"Why do you need MY money?" The younger man asked. "Don't you have enough of your own?" 

"I do, but _you_ can explain this as a legitimate expense, _I_ cannot." 

"What do you mean?" Raoul asked as he climbed out of bed. 

"The DeChagny family is heavily involved in the day-to-day running of the Opera Populaire," Erik explained as Meg and Raoul headed into their living room. "One of your employees has broken contract and has left your employ without your permission." 

Raoul narrowed his eyes and sat down on the couch, "Who?" 

"Oren Phyreus." 

"He's on a _leave of absence_, isn't he?" Raoul asked as Meg made herself comfortable beside him. 

"His leave of absence is UP and he has yet to return," Erik snapped as he sat in a chair across from the younger couple. "And he has not contacted his employers or informed them that he has left town!" 

"Oren's gone?" Meg seemed surprised. 

"Yes. Long gone," Erik answered. He turned back to Raoul, "He was still under contract, was he not?" 

"Um…" Raoul scratched his messy blonde head, "I think so, yeah." 

"Then you need to hire someone to find him and claim services owing." 

"And _who_, exactly, should I hire?" 

"Nadir Khan," Erik replied. "He is very skilled at finding people." 

"Why do you care so much?" Raoul wondered. "I thought you didn't like the guy." 

"I don't, but I have need of him." 

"Can't your Hunter people go find him?" Raoul asked. 

"I can't ask the Guild for assistance." 

"You'd better explain that one to me," Raoul frowned, crossing his arms over his well-tanned chest. 

Though Erik didn't want the latest turn of events to be public knowledge, he understood that Raoul and Meg needed to know, if only so they would understand why subterfuge was essential where the Guild was concerned: 

Erik knew the Hunters – the ones that did not know him – would find his current state a cause for concern. As would Leroux. If the matter was not kept from them, Erik would come face to face with his _own_ Executioner. 

And that would be problematic indeed.

* * *

**Populaire – above the stage (the next day) **

"Hello, Erik." 

Erik felt the air grow suddenly cold. He looked away from Christine rehearsing below him and turned to see a tall lanky woman dressed in robes that seemed to be made of the darkness itself. 

He noted the shiny mask covering the right half of her face - the_ rotted _half. 

"Hel," Erik nodded in acknowledgement. "I have not seen you in a while." 

Hel shrugged, "I had my charges to take care of. The dead do not rule themselves." 

"I imagine they don't," he answered, and then glanced back at Christine, wishing the rehearsal would end shortly so he could see her face to face. 

"Do you need assistance?" Hel spoke up again. 

He turned back to the goddess, brow furrowed beneath his full white mask. "Pardon?" 

"I only ask because I am aware you may need to visit the dead sometime soon." 

"How do you know this?" Erik asked suspiciously. 

"My father still lurks around here. He hears things. Am I wrong?" 

"No. You're quite right, actually. But it's not _your_ realm I desire access to. It's another one." 

"Oh, which?" She asked eagerly. " Annwn? Mictlan? Yomi?" 

"Hades'realm," Erik answered. 

"Ah…" Hel replied, then seemed thoughtful for a moment. "But I cannot see how you expect to get there. It's a place where only _gods_ can travel freely." She gave Erik a small flirtatious smile, "If it was _my _realm, I would grant you permission to come and go as you please." 

"Well, that's very…" he tried to find the proper word, "…_kind _of you." 

"Alas," she sighed, "You will only see Hades if you die." The left side of her mouth pouted prettily, the right still obscured. "I would not like you to die before your time, Erik." 

"Thank you, Hel." He answered, realizing she truly seemed concerned. 

"I may not have been to Hades' realm myself…" Hel continued, "But I have an idea of what you could expect." She sat on the rail beside him, balancing easily. "There is a dog guarding the gates, much like my Garm. My sweet pet lets no soul pass unless I invite them, but he is weak to music." She shrugged, "A nice lullaby will put him to sleep. Perhaps Hades' _Cerberus_ is similar?" 

Erik considered this, "And how big is your pet?" 

"Oh, goddess…" she furrowed her brow, trying to remember. "Well, he just fits into Gnipahellir." She glanced back at Erik, "That's his cave," she explained. "But he's much smaller than my brother, Fenrir." 

Erik nodded. Fenrir – a great wolf - was prophesied to grow so large, he would reach the sky. 

The comparison did not give Erik much comfort, but at least Hel had offered a possible defense should he come face to face with a very large three-headed guard dog. 

"If there's anything else you can tell me, I would much appreciate it," he said. 

"I'll ask around," she replied. "I have friends in high – and low – places." 

The goddess then disappeared, but not before she blew him a kiss goodbye. 

Erik shuddered at the cold rush of wind she left in her wake and briefly wondered why he seemed to attract women of the _undead _variety. 

Sytri laughed at Erik's silent musing.** "Perhaps it's your corpsey good looks…"**

* * *

**Giry-DeChagny Residence – a week later **

"You've been visiting us a lot lately," Meg said as she sat beside Christine on the couch. Raoul was in the shower and the two best friends were taking the time to share some girl talk. "If something's bothering you, I'm always here." 

"I miss Erik," Christine said plainly, hugging herself. "I mean, I still see him every day at the theatre, and he still coaches my voice in the rehearsal rooms, so we DO have some time together… but… " 

"But…?" Meg asked. 

"I hate being by myself at night. I hate rolling over and not having him to snuggle up with." 

Meg furrowed her brow, "Erik _snuggles_? He doesn't seem the type." 

"Uh… no… no, of course not…" Christine said quickly. "Erik isn't snuggable …" she then smiled secretively, "At least, that's what he'll tell you if you ever ask." 

Meg shook her head, "I would be _afraid_ to!" 

"Anyway," Christine continued, her voice soft. "The point is… I haven't felt alone like this since my dad died." 

"Oh sweetie… I can loan you Raoul if you like," Meg offered, then snickered at Christine's shocked expression, "I'm KIDDING, Chrissy! Good lord, I'm not giving up my snuggable DeChagny ass to anyone, best friend or not!" 

"Someone wants my ass?" Raoul asked as he exited the bathroom dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a tank top. 

The two girls simply laughed in response. "I prefer _Erik's_, thanks," Christine replied. 

"Should I feel insulted?" Raoul asked, sitting down on the chair across from them. He glanced at Meg, "_You_ like my ass, don't you?" 

"Very much," Meg agreed. 

"Good. I would hate to think Chrissy's corpsey fiancé had a nicer backside than me." 

"Speaking of my fiancé," Christine started as she leaned forward and directed her attention towards Raoul, "Has Nadir had any luck finding Orpheus yet?" 

Raoul shrugged, "Someone saw a man matching Oren's description boarding a plane for Mexico a few days ago. After that, though… who knows?" 

Christine nodded, "I guess he had to get away from all the trouble with Martine. She told the cops that it wasn't him, but I don't blame him for wanting to disappear." She then frowned, "But did he have to pick NOW to do it? After what Erik did for him, you'd think he would have stuck around to make sure everything was okay!" 

"He was probably just so relieved that he wanted to get out of here as soon as possible," Meg answered. "He didn't want the chance Sytri would find his way back inside him again." 

"Tell us honestly, Chrissy," Raoul spoke up, "How are you handling this? Knowing he's inside Erik? I never liked the man all that much to begin with, but this…" he spread his palms, unable to put it into words. 

"I guess I'm handling it okay," Christine replied. "I mean, how is a woman _supposed_ to handle it when her fiancé is possessed by his demonic daddy?" 

"At least he has the good sense to stay away from you," Raoul muttered. 

"He wants me safe," Christine explained. 

"That I do…" a voice spoke as a shadowy formed dropped down from a vent in the ceiling. 

Raoul jumped up, swearing inelegantly at the visitor. 

"Really, DeChagny, do you think I would put Christine in danger by allowing us to be alone when I am not entirely… _myself_?" Erik asked with a frown. 

"You've put her in a hell of a position though, haven't you?" Raoul shot back. 

"Stop it!" Christine snapped as she stood up. "Yes, I'm angry that Erik didn't talk to me first, but I understand why he did it!" She focused on Raoul, "You didn't see Oren those last few days. He was losing control! It would have been worse to keep Sytri inside him." 

Christine turned to Erik and reached a hand out towards him. He took it and the two sat together on the couch. 

Raoul sat back down with a scowl, "I don't appreciate you sneaking into my home, Erik!" He then eyed the man before him, looking for any sign of his unseen companion, "_Either_ of you…" 

Erik shrugged, "I used to do it when it Little Giry and Christine lived here alone. They didn't seem to mind." 

"Do I _look_ like Christine to you?" Raoul scoffed. 

Erik studied him carefully, "Well, you do have blonde hair, though you're not nearly as pretty." 

Christine snickered. Raoul did not seem amused. 

"So what do you want?" Raoul asked shortly. "I'm waiting for you to demand something from me again." 

"Orpheus' whereabouts," Erik said. 

Raoul told Erik the same thing he had told Christine. Erik took it less gracefully, allowing some rather colourful phrases to escape his lips. Christine hugged his arm to calm him down. 

Raoul took it all in stride, knowing Erik's moods by now. "Give me your cell number and I'll call you when I find out anything," he offered. 

"Wait, I'll do you one better…" Meg spoke up. "We still have the extra room. You and Chrissy can stay for a few days if you want. That way we can all find out at the same time," she offered. 

"Meggy!" Raoul snapped, "I'd rather he NOT be here!" He glanced at Christine, "_You're_ free to stay, though." 

"Ray … can I talk to you?" Meg asked with a raised eyebrow. Raoul didn't like that look and reluctantly followed her into the bedroom for a chat. "Listen, Chrissy is lonely without him. Do you get that? Erik is afraid to be alone with her, but at least if WE'RE here, he may consider it." 

"I'd be lying if I said Erik's _visitor_ didn't scare the crap out of me," Raoul replied. "It's not just HER in danger!" 

Meg studied Raoul, "Ray, Erik isn't going to get all hot and bothered and lose control while WE'RE around. I want to do this for Christine." 

"Is she _really_ that bad off?" Raoul asked. 

"Maybe you haven't noticed how often she's visited us the last two weeks?" Meg asked. 

"Geez…" Raoul sighed, rubbing his temples. "She really MUST be lonely." He took a deep breath and let it out. "Fine. They can stay. Only a few nights, though! Just because Chrissy and Erik can't be alone, that doesn't mean WE have to suffer." 

Meg nodded. "Deal." 

The two headed out again and turned their attention to Erik and Christine. "The offer still stands. You two can stay for a few nights. We'll be right here, so you can snuggle safely." 

Erik frowned, "I don't snuggle." 

Christine hid her smirk from Erik, though Meg saw it clearly. 

Meg shrugged, "Well, feel free to stay anyway." 

Erik glanced at Christine and saw the pleading look in her eyes. "It should be okay, right? We won't actually be alone," she pointed out. 

Erik considered this. His main reason for not coming home was because he did not want to be unaccompanied with Christine while Sytri remained a part of him. 

Considering her friends would be a scream away, then perhaps… 

"I suppose we should be safe for a few nights," he mused, knowing that nothing but sleep would take place while there were others so close by. 

Christine let out a delighted squeal. The two quickly made plans to grab their overnight bags from home and return within the hour.

* * *

**Later**

"**Seduce her…**" 

"What?" Erik asked the voice in his head. 

"**She's right there. _ Seduce_ her.**" 

Erik looked at the sleeping form beside him, and frowned. "I'll do nothing of the sort. Her friends are in the next room. I will neither make a spectacle of myself, nor will I allow you to trick me _into_ making a spectacle of myself!" 

"**I cannot believe you've given yourself a security net!**" Sytri replied angrily. "**She is your woman! You can do what you please with her!**" 

Erik let out a cold laugh, "Yes, _I _can. YOU, however, cannot! If I feel I need a _security net_, so be it. It's better than letting you get even the smallest bit of advantage." 

"**You're a man. Act like it!**" 

"Am I? Sometimes I wonder," Erik replied, knowing his unresponsive behaviour was only infuriating Sytri. "Ah well, no reason to think on it now. Good night, Father…" 

Erik wrapped an arm around Christine and pulled her back against him, spooning his long lean frame around her. It allowed the masked man a long-needed peaceful night without fear of a hellish end. 

The fact that it angered Sytri beyond words didn't hurt either. 

** End of Episode 18**


	19. Episode 19

_**A/N: Thanks to my beta, Olethros. **_

* * *

**Erik: the Vampire Hunter - The Continuing Adventures**

**Episode 19**

By: Elektra

**Athens, Greece**

Oren Phyreus sat on the beach watching the waters of the Aegean Sea lapping against the rocks. He knew this place: The Apollo Coast.

He couldn't help but think of the god for whom it was named: His father and his teacher. It was through Apollo that he found his love for music and his skills for the lyre.

Here and now, however, no one knew who he was, nor how his history meshed with theirs.

Oren hoped to keep it that way. His body was his own again, and he wanted to forget all that had brought him to this place in his life – his _second_ life.

"Hey there," a voice spoke up beside him. Orpheus turned to see a lovely young lady with dark hair and dark eyes smiling at him. "I'm Julie." She held a hand out.

"Oren," Orpheus answered, then turned his attention back to the water. Disappointed with his lack of interest, she turned her attentions elsewhere.

He hadn't meant to be rude, but the less people he befriended here, the better. It was the only way to make sure Sytri didn't find him again.

Now if he could only shake the feeling that someone was watching him.

* * *

**Elsewhere**

Erik looked at his surroundings. He was on a beach, but the sand was black. It wasn't just dark for lack of sun, but literally _black_.

He closed his eyes and lifted his head. He felt no breeze.

_A dream, _he realized. He wiped a hand over his face and was not surprised to find his skeletal features exposed. It seemed rather fitting in this place.

He heard the sounds of the water beside him, but not the normal sounds of the tide going in and out. It was a sound made of low moans and cries. He would have called it _musical_ if not for the obvious hatred and anger that pulled down each note every time the waves rose.

Erik crouched beside the strange glowing liquid and held a hand over the green mist rising from it. He slowly lowered his hand – until icy cold fingers clenched around his wrist.

"I would not do that…"

Erik turned to see Hel crouching beside him.

"They may try and drag you in with them," she said.

Erik found her choice of words odd, "_They?_"

"The souls. Spirits. There are creatures that float here without form or substance."

"And _here_ is?"

Hel smiled, the uncovered half of her face quite pleasant. "Forgive the intrusion," she said. "I thought it would be better to show you rather than tell you. I believe you mortals call it _visual aids_. I want you to be well educated." She stood up and Erik stood with her.

"This is the Underworld. Ruled by Hades. When you come here, you will have to cross this river – as well as four others - to hold an audience with Hades and work out whatever deal you wish to work out." She glanced towards the green polluted waters, "This is Styx."

"And the other rivers?"

She nodded in approval. "Acheron is the river of sorrow;" The image of the river Styx changed shape, melting and sliding into Acheron. The cries that escaped _this_ river were of deep despair. "Cocytus is the river of lamentation;" the river changed once again, "Phlegethon is made of fire." Erik jumped back as flames rose from what was once water, "… and Lethe is the river of forgetfulness." Faces that looked confused and unsure rose up from the murky waters.

Hel grew serious, "You must be careful there, lest you forget your purpose altogether."

"**That works for me…**"

Hel looked around the despairing landscape, confused.

Erik frowned, "That would be Sytri. He lacks a body, but not a voice."

"Ahh…" she said with a nod. "Thus I hear him in your head."

"**Don't sound so concerned. Should you forget your purpose, I am sure Lou will find a place for you.**"

Erik felt Hel's icy hand grab his shoulder, "He cannot. I have already claimed Erik."

Erik glanced over at the goddess, "Pardon?"

She looked over at him kindly. "_After_ you leave your mortal body," she assured him. "When the time comes, I will come to retrieve you."

Erik nodded, unsure what to make of that offer. He supposed it was… _nice_.

"But I have kept you long enough," Hel said, "You should wake up soon."

* * *

**DeChagny – Giry Residence – Guest bedroom**

Erik woke up to the sound of breakfast sizzling.

Usually he was an earlier riser, but judging from the sound of chatter outside the door, he had slept in. He imagined it had something to do with the dream keeping him under.

Of course, it had not completely been a creation of his mind. He knew enough about gods to understand that much.

Erik was silently grateful to Hel for showing him what he would face in the Underworld.

Now if only he could find Orpheus and make the trade: Sytri's soul for Orpheus' freedom. He could be free of his father forever.

"**Do you think I'll let you get that far?" **Sytri's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"And what could you do?" Erik asked.

Sytri simply laughed.

Unfazed, Erik grabbed his mask and joined the others in the kitchen.

* * *

**Athens, Greece – three days later**

In the Prefecture of Kefalonia, Oren found what he was looking for. The Sakkos cave near the temple of Apollo. This is where Martine had found him, or rather, his head.

He couldn't remember how long this cave had been here. Did it exist at the time of gods and goddesses?

Oren's memories of the past were fading. Being brought back into this world had given him a new life, as if he had been reborn.

He suddenly stopped in his tracks, feeling someone watching him. Before he could pursue his feelings, the ground began to shake beneath him. He let out a cry and grabbed for the rock wall.

A crack appeared inches from his feet. A long, jagged crack ran around the floor of the cavern. It began to split, a force unlike any he had experienced before pulled him towards it. He was helpless to resist.

Something down there wanted him.

Something that wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.

* * *

**Giry-DeCagny Apartment**

Erik jumped awake, startling the girl sleeping beside him.

"What is it?" Christine asked. "What's wrong?"

"He has Orpheus…" Erik answered.

"Who?"

"Hades."

Christine studied Erik, "How do you know?"

Erik tapped his temple, "A little demon told me." He climbed out of bed and pushed to his feet, "I have to make the trade."

"Trade?" Christine asked, then remembered. Erik was going to trade Sytri for Oren, freeing both himself and the young man.

"If he already has Orpheus, I need to go. Now." Erik informed her.

Christine grew worried. "But…"

"As soon as I get rid of my unwanted guest, I _will_ be back."

He quickly dressed and headed towards the door, then stopped and turned to face Christine.

"Did you have a date in mind for the wedding?"

Christine furrowed her brow, "Why are you asking that? Of all times…"

"Pick a date," he commanded.

"What, _now?_"

"Yes," Erik replied. "Pick a date. And make it soon."

Christine bit her lower lip, "Well, my birthday is coming up soon, but that doesn't give us enough time to plan and-"

"Forget planning. I was never one for fancy celebrations." He took her hand. "I will be there. That is a promise." His voice grew softer. "I love you, angel…"

Before Christine could say anything more, Erik headed out of the room and left the apartment.

* * *

**Elsewhere**

Hades placed his hand on the large restless creature beside him.

"Calm now, my pet." He received a deafening bark in response. It was a sound that would have sent any other soul into madness. "We will be having guests shortly. You shall have fresh meat, my Cerberus."

Three heads nudged their master. He reached into his dark cloak and pulled out three meaty bones – one for each head. He tossed them to the ground and his pet dug into them viciously.

Hades studied his feasting pet and smiled coldly. "Well, I cannot promise you our guests will be as meaty," he said. "There is one that is somewhat bony, though I imagine his beloved makes sure he eats on a regular basis."

"Nonetheless," Hades continued. "They will come soon. Very soon."

**End of Episode 19**


	20. Episode 20

**_A/N: Thanks to my beta, Olethros._**

* * *

**Erik: the Vampire Hunter - The Continuing Adventures**

**Episode 20**

By: Elektra

**66 Laramie Dr.**

Erik stood impatiently as Martine drew a symbol on the floor with chalk. She was still moving with great effort, as the wound in her chest had not completely healed. She sat within the circle and closed her eyes.

_Meditating_, she had claimed. Erik had no time for her meditating, but he also knew that it was the only way he would get any answers.

"The main door into Hades is near the Temple of Apollo in Italy," Martine began, "But being that Orpheus disappeared near the Temple of Apollo in Greece, I can only gather that it is a back door of sorts."

"You knew where Orpheus was all this time?" Erik demanded.

"More or less. I am his second mother, so to speak," she explained. "It would be irresponsible of me not to keep track of him."

Erik seethed, his hand clenching into a fist, "We have been looking for him for over a month!"

Martine shrugged, "It's not my fault you couldn't find him."

He narrowed his golden eyes, "I was planning to find a way to free him from Hades' debt! You could have helped us."

"You didn't ask me for help. The last thing I wanted was for my dear Oren to be sucked back down into the Underworld, even if you were attempting to barter his freedom. Unfortunately… he is there _now_, regardless."

"Hades _does_ have him, then?"

Martine nodded. "But only the dead may enter Hades. Oren–_Orpheus_–was dead and revived. You, on the other hand…" she studied Erik for a few moments, then released a breath. "You are very much alive. Though I must admit, you provide an excellent imitation of a corpse."

"How do I get in there?" Erik asked, having little patience for Martine's snide comments.

"Your father is the key," Martine pointed out. "He inhabits your body… and _he_ is very much dead. He was never truly _alive_ to begin with. No doubt that is one of the factors that led to your hideous appearance."

Erik winced at the laughter in his head. "**She's right, you know. But think about it, son - _what_ makes for a grander trophy? A non-corporeal spirit, or a living dead man?"**

Erik ignored the voice and spoke to Martine once again, "So where should I go then?" he asked. "Italy or Greece?"

"Being that you're a sneaky creature, I would recommend the back door, but I doubt it would make a difference this late in the game. He's already expecting you."

Martine pushed herself to her feet and reached a hand out to grab Erik's shoulder as he turned to go. "There is one more thing, and it's very important. You need an anchor."

Erik furrowed his brow beneath his mask. "An anchor?"

"Something to give you a reason to come back, or else you will find yourself there permanently." Martine smiled, "I think, however, you already have that reason. Just keep her in your thoughts constantly while you're down there. If you forget her for even a second, Hades will jump on the opportunity to make you forget her permanently."

"I could never forget her," Erik insisted.

"In the long run, that's true. But should things get hectic down there, if for only a moment your thoughts wander to something else, if for only a moment you let the river Lethe overpower you-"

"I understand."

"You couldn't possibly understand until you're faced with it," Martine replied. "But go on, now. You have a lot to do."

Erik left Martine and quickly set about making plans for a trip to Italy.

* * *

**Garner/Daaé Residence – the next day**

"Does this mean the tour is off?" Loki asked as he levitated around Erik as the masked man set about packing provisions for his trip.

"What _tour?_" he grumbled.

"The tour I was planning for CAM," Loki pouted. "Now you're going to be dead and we won't be able to-"

Erik's hand shot out, grabbing the small god by the throat. "What made you think I would have agreed to a tour? I will NOT be put on display!" He tossed Loki over his shoulder.

The god quickly righted himself in mid-air.

Loki sighed, "You make it sound so terrible. Really, Erik… it's not that bad to have fame and fortune."

"I have the fortune. It's the _fame_ I don't want!"

"Yes, that's what they all say. Until they have the pretty ladies knocking on their doors," Loki replied, then laughed, "Oh, I forgot. You already have one of those. Well, then I suppose you DON'T really need the fame."

Loki then grew sober. "If I may ask - what, exactly, are _her_ thoughts on this vacation of yours?"

"She's not happy. I was given an earful last night." Erik replied. "I did not heed her."

"Hmm, you do that a lot," Loki answered. "And yet, you think you're ready for marriage."

"This from a god who is known for his many mistresses," Erik muttered.

"Picking on _my_ marriage is not the way to prove your point."

"I'm not trying to prove any point," Erik snapped as he continued stuffing things into his backpack.

"Obviously. Otherwise you would understand Christine's wishes in regards to your latest life decisions, wouldn't you?" Loki needled. "Come now, Erik. Allowing yourself to be possessed by your father? Going down into the Underworld where you may never return? I doubt those choices sat well with her. Did you even consider how she would feel?" He sighed, "I suppose I will have to comfort the poor girl once you're gone. She'll be ripe for some male attention by then."

"I don't have time for your taunting now. There are things that have to be done!"

Loki stuck his nose up, "If that's your attitude, you _would_ be better off alone."

Before Erik could respond, the red-haired god disappeared.

* * *

**Italy – two days later**

Erik made his way towards the ruin of the Temple of Apollo. There was little left of what he imagined had once been a grand building.

"Hello…"

Erik spun around at the soft female voice that filled the emptiness. A figure stood before him in white robes. He could see through her. A ghost.

Or a guardian.

"Who are you?"

She smiled, "I was once known as Sibyl. I was a priestess at this temple when it was grand and beautiful. I have guarded the doorway to Hades for eternity."

"I need to get in there," Erik explained. "It's a matter of great importance."

"Isn't it always?" She asked, then studied him carefully. "You're not quite dead… but you hold one that is. I would demand a trial for most. Being, however, that you have found an unfortunate loophole, I must grant you entrance without."

The ground beneath Erik rumbled, a crack splitting open just inches away from where he stood.

"Stand there," Sibyl insisted. "It will open beneath you. I suggest you brace yourself for a fall." Erik did as he was told.

The rumbling grew louder, the ground shaking beneath his feet. Bits of what was left of the ruins began to crumble to the ground.

The ground opened wide, and Erik found himself with nothing to grab onto.

"I do hope you're not holding onto anything important in this world, Erik."

He fell…

* * *

**Elsewhere**

Erik was surrounded by darkness. Cold, icy darkness. He saw nothing, felt nothing, heard nothing. He let out a sudden shout as every bone in his body was jolted against something hard and unforgiving.

The darkness began to fill with an eerie green light. The sound of water lapping against stone filled his ears. He felt a wet mist on his face…

…and realized his mask was gone.

He chuckled quietly. Why should he be concerned with such a trivial thing here and now? He was in the land of the dead. He would fit right in.

Erik pushed to his feet and straightened the pack on his back. Instinct guided him to the left, and he found himself walking along what appeared to be a shore.

He was at Styx, the river that would lead him into the Underworld. The next step was to find the boatman.

Erik wasn't sure how long he walked, or even where he was walking, when he came upon a gondola tied up to a dock. A robed figure stood unmoving at the helm, pole in hand.

"Charon?" Erik asked. The robed figure moved his head at the sound of his name. "Will you take me across?"

A boney hand unclenched beneath the robe, fingers open, palm waiting.

Erik reached into his pocket and pulled out two coins. He placed the coins in the skeletal hand.

Another skinless hand reached up and pulled the hood back.

Charon's empty eyes stared in confusion at the man who had just placed money in his palm, trying to make of Erik what he could.

Erik felt the corners of his lips quirk up as he imagined what was going through the silent boatman's mind. "No, Charon, I am not your relation. Nor am I _dead_, for that matter – but I am carrying one who _is_ dead."

It took a few moments, but Charon stepped back to allow Erik passage onto the boat and pushed away from the shore.

* * *

**Later**

Erik could not even imagine how much time had passed since arriving at the shores of the Styx and walking in the darkness of the Underworld until he had arrived _here_.

Cocytus.

The river of lamentation.

Hel had told Erik of this river, but she had not prepared him for what he would see.

He didn't want to look.

"**Why hide from it, son?**" Sytri asked. "**This is the truth. This is what you've done. LOOK, Erik! Look at your handiwork!**"

Erik knew one day he would have to deal with his past actions. He had thought it would be after his time on Earth was done, however.

The faces in the murky glowing water were familiar to him. Each and every one of them.

They were the faces of the Executioner's victims. Crying, weeping, grief-stricken.

His fault. All his fault.

Guilt consumed him. Completely, utterly. The pain was almost unbearable. The spirits rose from the water before him, grabbing at him, wailing for him, screaming to curse him.

His fault…

"**Live in your guilt, Erik. Stay here. Suffer. Join them. You are worth nothing more.**"

_You're worth so much … to me…_

That voice. Those words…

_I love you._

"Christine!" Erik shouted out, pulling himself away from the icy clawing hands.

He stumbled back from the river, his eyes darting around the darkness. Darkness that held no secrets from him.

Erik smiled coolly, "Well, father… it seems I inherited something useful from you after all. I can navigate this place as if it were my own home."

He walked towards what seemed to be a bridge. It was chain and wood, decaying at the edges, but useable. He quickly ran to it and stormed over the splintered planks, wanting to get as far from the river as possible.

He knew his sins. He knew his past. He knew the guilt he had always kept hidden deep within. The guilt would be with him all his life. He did not need to be reminded of that right here, right now.

There were far more important things to do at the moment.

* * *

**Hades' throne room**

Hades brushed his fingers through the golden mane of the boy on the ground beside his throne.

"You know, I was rather annoyed when you were taken from here, Orpheus," he said to his companion. "It broke my un-beating heart. To think, you were the one – the _only_ one – who had ever been able to bring tears to my eyes. Crying about your beloved dead wife, begging me to free her from her eternal rest. And then what? You broke the ONE rule I made. _Don't look at her until you leave_. It was a simple enough rule. You lost your wife, and you wasted my tears."

Orpheus didn't respond. His eyes darted around the throne room desperately.

"Are you looking for my Goddess?" Hades asked. "Alas, she's not here at the moment. Visiting family for the next six months. It's put me in a rather foul temper, I'm afraid."

Orpheus was noticeably stressed by this news.

Hades' black eyes darted to the left for a moment, his head tilted upwards, "Ahh, someone has come to make a trade for you. Perhaps he will have something interesting to offer in exchange. I'm a fair god. If I feel a deal can be reached, it will be reached."

Hades then leaned forward and spoke in Orpheus's ear, "Depending, of course, if he doesn't fall victim to Lethe. You had better pray that boy does not forget his purpose here, else you will have no possible hope of ever leaving my side."

**End of Episode 20**


	21. Episode 21

**_A/N: Thanks to my beta, _****_ Olethros. _**

* * *

** Erik: the Vampire Hunter - The Continuing Adventures**

**Episode 21**

By: Elektra

Thousands of years ago – by human measurement – a child was born on the European continent to an inhuman father and a human mother. The child appeared normal, yet could only satiate its appetite with blood from other living beings. It was gifted with the ability to turn another human into something akin to itself without the messy need for biological reproduction.

It had taken much effort from the humans to kill this particular creature, but eventually they had persevered. Its offspring still remained numerous, and humans found themselves battling for survival day to day.

After years of existence in the human world, the demon Sytri knew this story well. He had found a human female whose biology would be close enough to his own to bring forth a child. Her name was Madeline, and he had chosen her to incubate his spawn with the hopes of receiving similar results.

Alas, she had not been able to provide an offspring for him. He had worked past the implement she had requested him to wear and the chemicals she had ingested to prevent conception.

And yet, she remained barren.

As far as his calculations went, Sytri's spawn should have been within her by now.

But it was not.

The female was of no use to him.

He buried her body in a shallow pit three weeks later.

* * *

**Elsewhere**

A hunched figure, looking much like living death, watched the scenes play before him in the mirror-like surface of the river Lethe.

Who were these people, and what importance did they have to him? Why should he care about a child who had never seen the light of day?

Who was this unborn child, and why was it important?

* * *

**Underworld – Throne room**

Hades watched the scene unfolding in the scrying bowl before him. "Look at this now, Orpheus – your friend is not only forgetting who he is, but it seems he truly believes he never existed."

The god of the underworld rubbed his long, cold fingers together, smiling cruelly. It was the most entertainment he had had since his wife had left to join her mother topside.

Hades' smile faded. He was missing his wife deeply. If lovely Persephone had been here with him now, he was quite sure she would find other things to keep him occupied.

Hades shook that thought from his mind. It only made his longing and frustration that much worse.

"Tell me, Orpheus," he began, tugging on the blond head at his knee. "Is Erik an animal lover?"

* * *

**Underworld - River Lethe**

More images. Or were they memories? The corpse-like figure wasn't sure. What was he seeing?

Who were these people? Who was this woman taking form in the waters before him? Her face was plain, and she seemed rather somber and serious. Hardly someone he would have thought twice about.

* * *

**Elsewhere**

_Antoinette Giry knelt beside her husband, his body unmoving, his clothing stained with his own blood. _

_She was in shock. _

_Hunters were known to fall in battle, but she never thought, never dreamed, that her own husband would be one of them. She could not stop the tears streaming down her face. _

_Meg. Her precious little Meg would be without a father now. And she wouldn't even be allowed to know the truth of it – that he had died bravely, giving his life to save her mother._

_So distraught was Antoinette that she didn't see her enemy come up behind her until it was too late. Her weapon had rolled away. _

_Too far to reach it now. _

_Antoinette cried out, covering her head with her hands as she waited for her death._

_It was long, painful, and purposefully cruel._

Megan Giry found herself staring at the dirty wall before her, imagining what her parents' deaths must have been like.

Meg was surrounded by smells that she would have rather not smelled. She heard sounds she'd rather not hear.

She briefly wondered what life would have been like if her parents had not been killed by what the police claimed was a random act of violence.

Megan knew the truth: She had found it out only three months ago, when she had found various private letters and files her mother had tried so hard to hide.

She refused to believe what was before her eyes and insisted on keeping herself in denial. Preferably for the rest of her life.

Meg had had dreams once. She had wanted to be a dancer. Her mother would have understood. Her mother would have helped her dreams come true.

Her mother had been a prima ballerina in her time, before she had injured her knee.

Megan smiled weakly as she remembered the lessons her mother had taught her. They were vague memories of a child, but they were memories nonetheless.

Shaking such memories from her head, Meg pressed the plunger between her fingers and allowed the chemical injection to make her forget.

* * *

**Underworld - River Lethe**

Why was he here? Did he have a reason? Was he on his way to do something?

If he could close his eyes and sleep, perhaps… perhaps his confusion would go away.

The tall, thin man looked at the muddy waters.

Why was this hideous death's face, those frightening golden eyes, staring back at him? Surely it was nothing human.

Perhaps nothing more than a phantom.

But then, something much lovelier took its place. Something he was quite sure he could stare upon forever.

An angel, surely. A beautiful angel.

* * *

**Elsewhere**

Christine Daaé stood behind the beverage kiosk in the foyer of the opera house, desperately trying not to cry.

Beautiful voices filled the foyer as they seeped through the doors of the theatre proper. The latest production was playing to a packed house, and Christine only hoped that tonight's tips would be more than last night's.

Trying to put herself through art school was becoming increasingly difficult. She barely made enough to feed herself. She worried what would happen when she graduated. She would have to find a place to live. Could she even afford it? She had nothing saved up. Not anymore.

Christine knew she had the skill, but it was the passion she was lacking. Professor Giudicelli had made that increasingly clear. In fact, many times Christine had wondered if the woman was trying to detract her from her dream to begin with.

Christine needed a teacher who wanted her to succeed as much as _she_ wanted to succeed. The fact that she had not found such a teacher led Christine to believe that something was missing.

Something she should have found long ago.

* * *

**Underworld - River Lethe**

The girl in the water turned her blue eyes towards the dark man looking at her, almost as if she were staring at him from the bottom of the river.

_Erik…_

That name. Her voice. Why did it seem so familiar to him?

_You promised you'd be back in time for our wedding. Remember?_

The face of death blinked his golden eyes, his hand reaching up to massage his temples.

_Erik, you're running out of time._

"Christine?" The living corpse spoke aloud.

_Please, Erik. Come back to me._

The ghost of a man jumped to his feet, staring left, then right. There was somewhere he had to go. Something he had to do.

It hit him all at once. Who he was, what he was doing.

She was waiting for him. The girl in the water was waiting.

_Christine_...

His angel.

* * *

**Daaé/Garner Residence**

Christine woke up with a start. "Erik?"

She had seen him in her dreams. Or perhaps it had been more of a nightmare. He had forgotten her. Forgotten everyone.

And the world had forgotten _him _in return.

_Almost_, Christine thought. _I didn't. I could never..._

"Come back…" she spoke aloud to the room.

She knew he first had to finish his task. She knew she only needed to wait a little while longer. Erik would come back.

He always did.

* * *

**The Underworld – the shores of the river Lethe**

Erik froze when he heard the sound – a series of howls akin to the Hounds of Hell.

The unmasked hunter swore under his breath. _No, not hounds, _he realized._ **One ** hound… with three heads._

His ears perked up at the padding of heavy feet. The stench of raw meat assaulted what passed for his nose, and the hot breath on the back of his neck did nothing to quell his nerves.

Erik slowly turned around to come face to face with Hades' guard dog.

_Cerberus_…

Surely the gods weren't this cruel. No man could have such a continuous rash of bad luck when attempting to do a somewhat noble, albeit underhanded, deed.

"**_Dinnertime!_**" Sytri laughed."**_Here doggy, doggy. He's a little bony, but I'm sure you'll find SOME meat on him!_**" The demon's mocking voice only annoyed Erik.

Cerberus snarled and snapped at the living corpse, white foam flying. Erik dived out of the way and whipped out his rope, throwing it up and looping it around Cerberus's neck.

Or rather, ONE of Cerberus's necks.

_Now what_? He thought, then glanced over to the river Lethe. He pulled the creature towards it, attempting to upset the animal's balance.

Unfortunately, Cerberus would not move so easily. The dog wrenched his neck around and yanked the rope from Erik's fingers, leaving the hunter's hands blistered and throbbing.

"_A hound it was, an enormous coal-black hound, but not such a hound as mortal eyes have ever seen_," Erik murmured aloud as he studied the large canine determined to turn him into dinner.

The dog stopped thrashing a moment, its large red eyes focusing on the man before it. It seemed to be waiting for something.

"**_Wonderful,_**" Sytri muttered dryly, "**_The dog is a Sherlock Holmes fan…_**"

Erik raised an eyebrow – or _would_ have raised an eyebrow had he one to raise. His hypnotizing voice took on the manner of a storyteller as he continued the passage. "_Fire burst from its open mouth, its eyes glowed with a smouldering glare, its muzzle and hackles and dewlap were outlined in flickering flame_."

Cerberus remained still. Erik would have thought the animal was looking upon him with expectation, if such a thing were possible. How could he have forgotten the power he held in his voice? He only hoped it was enough to enamour Cerberus.

"_Never in the delirious dream of a disordered brain could anything more savage, more appalling, more hellish be conceived than that dark form and savage face which broke upon us out of the wall of fog._"

Cerberus released a whine and lowered itself onto its stomach, resting its middle head on its paws.

"No wonder you're such an angry thing," Erik spoke to the animal softly, "You are neglected."

Thinking the animal calmed, he attempted to remove his rope from its neck.

He was greeted with a low growl as Cerberus took to his feet once again, mouth forming into a snarl, bloody fangs bared.

"I do not have time to tell you a bedtime story, mutt!" Erik hissed.

_My sweet pet lets no soul pass unless I invite them, but he is weak to music. A nice lullaby will put him to sleep. Perhaps Hades' Cerberus is similar? _

Erik was quickly reminded of Hel's earlier advice.

"A lullaby, then," Erik decided, keeping his tone silky. "Would you prefer one in the same vein as the story?"

Cerberus seemed expectant again.

Erik began singing the first song that came to mind. A story about a hound dog that seemed to cry all the time.

The words sounded ridiculous to his ears, and he knew he was butchering the tempo beyond all decency in his attempt to make his voice soothing, but for all its ridiculousness, it seemed to be working.

Cerberus's eyes began to close as it lay down on the ground once again. Erik brought the song to completion and saw that the animal was now well and truly asleep, the sound of its snoring almost deafening.

"**_I didn't know you were a dog whisperer,_**" Sytri muttered.

Erik chose to ignore the snide remark as he was finally able to reclaim his lasso.

With a deep sigh of relief, he continued along the coast of Lethe. He was not sure how long he had been walking when he came upon two large, black doors.

Carvings of suffering souls, living corpses, and gruesome deaths covered the ebony in a frighteningly beautiful narrative.

Before he could raise a hand to knock on the wood, the doors opened of their own accord. The angry voice that followed rattled the very bones in Erik's body.

"Monsieur, I bid you welcome…"

**End of episode 21**

* * *

**_Extra A/N: All of Erik's story passages come from 'The Hound of the Baskervilles' by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle_**


End file.
